The Past Matters
by AKJ4
Summary: Fic following on from the Series 4 episode 'No Room for Ravers', focussing on the effect of the incident on Jill and Gordon.
1. Chapter 1

They stood close, both needing the other to be near. The sirens faded as the ambulance disappeared down the other side of the hill on the moors. They gazed at the broken man in front of them; the man he had looked after for so many now dead. It was the only life he had known, and now he had nothing.

"If there's anything we can do…" Jill ventured then trailed off, her voice, too, broken. Gordon glanced at her and saw her to be on the verge of tears again. He shifted closer to her and placed his hand on her shoulder, trying to provide some comfort.

The man just shook his head, turned and walked away, posture slumped, before he was intercepted by a grim looking policeman. "We'll take him to The Royal, doctor." The policeman called as he led the man into the pander car.

Gordon nodded, following the two with his eyes until the man was safely in the car. He turned his attention to Jill to see her looking at him, chin quivering, tears on the verge of falling. He simply murmured "Come here" and that was all it took; she fell into his arms and clung to him. He pressed her close to him, one hand cradling her head to his shoulder, the other wrapped firmly around her.

He closed his eyes, savoring the feel of her. One phrase kept running round in his head. One of the only things she'd uttered during the whole ordeal; "He's going to kill us all!" He couldn't get it out his head; the panicked way she'd screamed it, her equally as panicked face; hopelessness written on her face, pleading to him to help her, to save her, to stop him killing them. And the fact was he nearly did, Gordon had nearly lost her. A growing feeling of nausea grew in his stomach and he pressed her closer to him, needing to know she was okay, she was safe. He'd nearly lost her. If he'd arrived later, if he'd not found her at all, if the grenade had been thrown their way… He mentally shook himself, knowing it was no use dwelling on 'what ifs', she was safe and that's all that mattered. But he couldn't help himself, couldn't stop dwelling on the possibilities that could have made it so much worse, that would have meant him loosing her.

* * *

It was many minutes later when they heard PC Phil Bellamy clear his throat. They raised their heads, but still held onto one another, to see him looking regretfully at them.

"Sorry." He cleared his throat again, his discomfort obvious at intruding upon their private moment. "We need to take statements from you both. Are you okay to to come to the station?"

"If you don't mind constable, I'd like to go straight to the hospital: make sure Jill's okay." As he said this, Gordon tightened his arms around her slightly, as if to protect her yet further.

"Of course, that's fine. We can take the statements there."

"So can we go now?" They both looked at Jill as she uttered this in a small voice, so uncharacteristic to her normal, confident tone.

Gordon nodded. "I'll drive you."

Jill nodded ever so slightly, and took a step in the direction of his car. It was parked just behind hers, outside the open gate, the gate topped with barbed wire, the gate through which she'd stepped to begin her nightmare.

Bile rose in her throat as guilt washed over her; guilt at the death, guilt at the danger she'd brought Gordon into. She'd known as soon as she'd seen the gates that something wasn't right, that she shouldn't enter, and yet she'd proceeded to anyway. And the result was that one man had died, and more could have as well, one being her husband. At this last thought, she tore away from Gordon, turned her back on him and retched, bringing up her breakfast and lunch.

It was a while before she stopped. She straightened up and stepped back against something solid and warm. Immediately, a pair of arms came to encircle her, supporting her, and she allowed herself to sag into Gordon's arms, all energy drained from her.

She heard him murmur something to her, but she couldn't quite make out what; blood was thumping in her ears, making her head ache. She groaned and dropped her head back against Gordon's chest, closing her eyes, hoping her pulse would slow and the nausea would pass.

* * *

"Come on." Gordon said after a while. She allowed him to lead her in the direction of his car, PC Bellamy, however, stopped them.

"I think it would be best if I drove you in the Pander, so you," he looked at Gordon, "don't have to drive and worry about Doctor Weatherill at the same time. PC Younger over there can driver your cars to the hospital." He pointed to a younger constable who was wandering around the area, a look of deep concentration on his face as he scribbled furiously in his notebook.

Jill and Gordon nodded, both seeing sense in the police officer's proposition and changed direction for the police car instead.

Gordon, still keeping one arm securely around his wife, handed his keys to PC Bellamy. Jill, however, made no move to.

"Can I have you keys please doctor?"

She raised her head slowly, as if just realising they were needed. "Erm..." She struggled with the simple request, her mind was just too full of what had just happened, her emotions too erratic. "Erm..." She mumbled again, her brow creasing. Where were they? "They're in my handbag I think." She looked around her as if searching for it, then pointed with a slightly shaking hand to one of the dilapidated buildings. "In there with my doctors' bag."

She felt Gordon tighten his arm around her, pressing her closer to him, whilst he placed his other hand on her arm, rubbing it soothingly, calming her slightly.

PC Bellamy nodded understandingly. "PC Younger can fetch them for you aswell. Now," he said, his tone louder and brisker, "let's get you both to The Royal."

* * *

She allowed Gordon to help her into the Pander, and even do the seatbelt up for her. Normally, she would have been loath to be anything but strong and independent, refusing to let anyone help her, but after the previous few hours, she wanted nothing more than to be close to Gordon, and be held by him, to forget about what had happened, how close she had come to losing her own life, and losing him.

Gordon settled into the seat beside her, put his arm around her shoulders, and covered her hands with his. Hers were clasped tightly in her lap, her body rigid, but dropped her head to his shoulder. The tears hadn't stopped, she was no longer sobbing, but the tears still fell, almost without her recognition.

During the whole journey, noone spoke, Jill and Gordon didn't move from their positions, but the dark patch on his shoulder steadily grew as the tears spread across the material.

However, as soon as the red brick building came into sight, Jill lifted her head, slide her hands from beneath Gordon's and hurriedly wiped away her tears. She didn't want everyone at the hospital knowing how badly it had affected her. She couldn't bear people walking on eggshells around her, people who had previously practically ignored her beginning to act concerned for her all the time. And then there would be the gossip; how much of a state she'd looked, how she'd actually been crying. She'd be able to forget about the incident a whole lot easier if there was noone to remind her about it.

"I wish I had my makeup." She muttered, forcing a laugh. She looked at Gordon, smiling. "How do I look?"

"Jill..." His face took on a pained expression, as the hand on her shoulder tightened.

She shook her head, forcing her smile wider. "Let's just try and avoid any questions, eh." She patted his leg, then got out, smoothing her trench coat as she stood, making sure the sleeves covered her red-raw wrists.

They stood close, both needing the other to be near. The sirens faded as the ambulance disappeared down the other side of the hill on the moors. They gazed at the broken man in front of them; the man he had looked after for so many now dead. It was the only life he had known, and now he had nothing.

"If there's anything we can do…" Jill ventured then trailed off, her voice, too, broken. Gordon glanced at her and saw her to be on the verge of tears again. He shifted closer to her and placed his hand on her shoulder, trying to provide some comfort.

The man just shook his head, turned and walked away, posture slumped, before he was intercepted by a grim looking policeman. "We'll take him to The Royal, doctor." The policeman called as he led the man into the pander car.

Gordon nodded, following the two with his eyes until the man was safely in the car. He turned his attention to Jill to see her looking at him, chin quivering, tears on the verge of falling. He simply murmured "Come here" and that was all it took; she fell into his arms and clung to him. He pressed her close to him, one hand cradling her head to his shoulder, the other wrapped firmly around her.

He closed his eyes, savoring the feel of her. One phrase kept running round in his head. One of the only things she'd uttered during the whole ordeal; "He's going to kill us all!" He couldn't get it out his head; the panicked way she'd screamed it, her equally as panicked face; hopelessness written on her face, pleading to him to help her, to save her, to stop him killing them. And the fact was he nearly did, Gordon had nearly lost her. A growing feeling of nausea grew in his stomach and he pressed her closer to him, needing to know she was okay, she was safe. He'd nearly lost her. If he'd arrived later, if he'd not found her at all, if the grenade had been thrown their way… He mentally shook himself, knowing it was no use dwelling on 'what ifs', she was safe and that's all that mattered. But he couldn't help himself, couldn't stop dwelling on the possibilities that could have made it so much worse, that would have meant him loosing her.

* * *

It was many minutes later when they heard PC Phil Bellamy clear his throat. They raised their heads, but still held onto one another, to see him looking regretfully at them.

"Sorry." He cleared his throat again, his discomfort obvious at intruding upon their private moment. "We need to take statements from you both. Are you okay to to come to the station?"

"If you don't mind constable, I'd like to go straight to the hospital: make sure Jill's okay." As he said this, Gordon tightened his arms around her slightly, as if to protect her yet further.

"Of course, that's fine. We can take the statements there."

"So can we go now?" They both looked at Jill as she uttered this in a small voice, so uncharacteristic to her normal, confident tone.

Gordon nodded. "I'll drive you."

Jill nodded ever so slightly, and took a step in the direction of his car. It was parked just behind hers, outside the open gate, the gate topped with barbed wire, the gate through which she'd stepped to begin her nightmare.

Bile rose in her throat as guilt washed over her; guilt at the death, guilt at the danger she'd brought Gordon into. She'd known as soon as she'd seen the gates that something wasn't right, that she shouldn't enter, and yet she'd proceeded to anyway. And the result was that one man had died, and more could have as well, one being her husband. At this last thought, she tore away from Gordon, turned her back on him and retched, bringing up her breakfast and lunch.

It was a while before she stopped. She straightened up and stepped back against something solid and warm. Immediately, a pair of arms came to encircle her, supporting her, and she allowed herself to sag into Gordon's arms, all energy drained from her.

She heard him murmur something to her, but she couldn't quite make out what; blood was thumping in her ears, making her head ache. She groaned and dropped her head back against Gordon's chest, closing her eyes, hoping her pulse would slow and the nausea would pass.

* * *

"Come on." Gordon said after a while. She allowed him to lead her in the direction of his car, PC Bellamy, however, stopped them.

"I think it would be best if I drove you in the Pander, so you," he looked at Gordon, "don't have to drive and worry about Doctor Weatherill at the same time. PC Younger over there can driver your cars to the hospital." He pointed to a younger constable who was wandering around the area, a look of deep concentration on his face as he scribbled furiously in his notebook.

Jill and Gordon nodded, both seeing sense in the police officer's proposition and changed direction for the police car instead.

Gordon, still keeping one arm securely around his wife, handed his keys to PC Bellamy. Jill, however, made no move to.

"Can I have you keys please doctor?"

She raised her head slowly, as if just realising they were needed. "Erm..." She struggled with the simple request, her mind was just too full of what had just happened, her emotions too erratic. "Erm..." She mumbled again, her brow creasing. Where were they? "They're in my handbag I think." She looked around her as if searching for it, then pointed with a slightly shaking hand to one of the dilapidated buildings. "In there with my doctors' bag."

She felt Gordon tighten his arm around her, pressing her closer to him, whilst he placed his other hand on her arm, rubbing it soothingly, calming her slightly.

PC Bellamy nodded understandingly. "PC Younger can fetch them for you aswell. Now," he said, his tone louder and brisker, "let's get you both to The Royal."

* * *

She allowed Gordon to help her into the Pander, and even do the seatbelt up for her. Normally, she would have been loath to be anything but strong and independent, refusing to let anyone help her, but after the previous few hours, she wanted nothing more than to be close to Gordon, and be held by him, to forget about what had happened, how close she had come to losing her own life, and losing him.

Gordon settled into the seat beside her, put his arm around her shoulders, and covered her hands with his. Hers were clasped tightly in her lap, her body rigid, but dropped her head to his shoulder. The tears hadn't stopped, she was no longer sobbing, but the tears still fell, almost without her recognition.

During the whole journey, noone spoke, Jill and Gordon didn't move from their positions, but the dark patch on his shoulder steadily grew as the tears spread across the material.

However, as soon as the red brick building came into sight, Jill lifted her head, slide her hands from beneath Gordon's and hurriedly wiped away her tears. She didn't want everyone at the hospital knowing how badly it had affected her. She couldn't bear people walking on eggshells around her, people who had previously practically ignored her beginning to act concerned for her all the time. And then there would be the gossip; how much of a state she'd looked, how she'd actually been crying. She'd be able to forget about the incident a whole lot easier if there was noone to remind her about it.

"I wish I had my makeup." She muttered, forcing a laugh. She looked at Gordon, smiling. "How do I look?"

"Jill..." His face took on a pained expression, as the hand on her shoulder tightened.

She shook her head, forcing her smile wider. "Let's just try and avoid any questions, eh." She patted his leg, then got out, smoothing her trench coat as she stood, making sure the sleeves covered her red-raw wrists.


	2. Chapter 2

Jill and Gordon entered the hospital, PC Bellamy just behind them, into a bustling reception.

Out of the corner of her eye, Jill saw Matron advancing towards them.

"Doctors! Where have you been? You have patients- Oh my!" She cut herself off as her gaze fell upon them. "What happened?"

Jill averted Matron's gaze. Obviously, she hadn't managed to clean herself up enough in the car. She swallowed, feeling the tears building again. She couldn't cry, not here! A glance to her right confirmed her suspicions that Lizzie gaping at her. She edged closer to Gordon and slipped her hand into his.

"Look, Matron, we'll explain later, I need to make sure Dr Weatherill's fine, then we have to speak to the police." Gordon squeezed her hand as he said this, seemingly sensing her urgency to leave the prying eyes in reception. He then turned to PC Bellamy. "You can wait in Dr Weatherill's office whilst I examine her." After receiving a nod from the constable, her led her into his office.

Once he'd closed the door, Gordon turned to Jill. Gently, he slipped her coat from her shoulders, the dust from the explosion covered it, standing out against the black material. He took off his own coat, hung them both up, and turned back to her, noticing her shiver slightly.

Wordlessly, he reached out and drew her into his arms, holding her tightly, yet gently as she began to sob once again. Finally, here, in the familiar surroundings of their work place, he could hardly believe he was actually holding his wife in his arms, when not even an hour previously, she'd been tied up, a gun pressed to her throat.

He didn't care PC Bellamy was waiting for them, he didn't care Matron was waiting for an explanation, he didn't care there was a waiting room full of patients. All he cared about was the woman in his arms, the woman he loved, the woman he so very nearly lost, but the woman who was now safe. And he had to make sure she stayed that way.

* * *

She sat in the small enclosed area in Gordon's office, her legs dangling over the side of the examination bed. Gordon stood close in front of her, gently cleaning the areas on her wrist the ropes had bitten into. He patted her skin lightly with a towel, then applied a cream to sooth them, his fingers applying just enough pressure to administer the cream, but not enough so as to cause her pain.

He finished and slid his hands to hers, squeezing them slightly as his eyes met her red, glistening ones. He raised his hand to her cheek, his fingers sliding into her dark hair which was now free from its earlier ponytail. His thumb glided over her cheekbone, wiping away the last of the salty moisture.

His leant forward, lightly brushing his lips on hers. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. Passion consumed them both and he too slide his arms around her as they lost themselves in the moment, quickly forgetting, for just a little while, the horrors of the day.

Eventually, they stopped, but still remained pressed together. "Thank you Gordon." She whispered, her breath hot but not unpleasant on his face.

"For what?" He questioned, equally as quietly.

She glanced down briefly, collecting her thoughts, before returning her eyes to his., her gaze intent and sincere. "For this, for being here for me, and for risking your life for me..." She looked away again, as tears once more filled her eyes, but not in the same frantic rush of emotion she'd sobbed before. This time, only one tear escaped her. It slid slowly downwards, only to be stopped by Gordon's thumb.

"There's no need to thank me, if I had to, I'd do it again; my life is nothing without you."

She tightened her arms around him, and lay her head on his shoulder, barely able to comprehend the amount love he seemed to have for her.

She was calmer now, not alright, but not panicked, not frenzied, not hysterical. And she knew, with Gordon there, in time, she'd be okay. They'd be okay.

* * *

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in!" Gordon called, sliding his arms from around Jill, but keeping a tight hold of her right hand.

"Doctors." PC Bellamy said, stepping into the consulting room. "PC Younger has just arrived with your car, Doctor Ormerod. I would like to make a start on the interviews if you're ready."

Gordon turned to Jill, looking at her questioningly. She nodded and squeezed his hand gently. He noted she looked much calmer, much of the fear had diminished from her eyes. But he wasn't going to delude himself, he knew it would be a long while until she was back to how she was before today. It would take a lot of effort, both from him, and also Jill herself. She would need to allow herself to open up to him. And despite the fact she'd taken comfort in him this afternoon, they still needed to talk. He also knew that when she was back to her usual self, it wasn't going to go away completely; the horrors of the afternoon would always stay with them, and there would occasionally be times when they would be haunted that little bit more, and they would need the other that little bit more. He vowed always to be there for her when she needed him.

"Do you need us separately constable?" Gordon questioned.

PC Bellamy nodded in response. "'fraid so. We'll make sure it won't take too long though."

"You go first." Jill whispered. He almost didn't hear her as he thanked the constable.

"You sure?" He was loath to leave her, even for a few minutes; she was far too vulnerable and he was determined keep his promise to himself to be there when she needed him.

She nodded, attempting a weak smile, no doubt sensing his concerns. "Go, I'll be fine. The sooner it's done, the sooner we can go home."

He returned her nod, knowing she made sense. Despite PC Bellamy's presence, Gordon raised his hand to her cheek, stroking the soft, slightly damp skin before leaning in and placing his lips on hers for the briefest, but no less loving of kisses. "I'll be right through there if you need me." This said, he reluctantly broke contact with her and followed the policeman out the room, closing the door softly behind him, wishing with all his might he could be back in there with her, holding her close to him.

He'd almost lost her.


	3. Chapter 3

Only minutes after Gordon left, a knock came at the door. "Come in." Jill called, sliding from the examination bed and walking into the main area of Gordon's office.

Lizzie entered, a cup of steaming liquid and biscuits in hand. "I thought you could do with a nice cup of tea." She said, moving past Jill to place them on the desk.

"Thank you." She smiled, touched by the thoughtfulness such a small gesture carried.

"Is there anything else you need doctor?"

Jill shook her head, and couldn't help but smile at the inquisitiveness in Lizzie's gaze; she was obviously dying to find out what had happened. But much as she liked the receptionist, she wasn't about to divulge the events of the afternoon; as she'd resolved earlier, no one would know, and that would make it a whole lot easier for her to forget.

"Doctor..." Lizzie began, tentatively, "what-"

But she was cut off as Matron entered, effectively shooing her away.

"Doctor, can I have a word?"

"Sure." Jill said as Matron closed the door then took a seat. Jill lowered herself into Gordon's chair, picked up the cup and brought it to her mouth, wincing as the hot liquid touched her lips.

"I realize you probably don't want talk about it," Matron began, "But I would like to know what happened, just to minimize disruption within the hospital."

Taking a large gulp of tea, and wincing again, Jill contemplated what she was going to tell Matron, she didn't need to know everything, of course, but she had to say something. She sighed, and took another swallow of the now cooler tea, before beginning. "A patient, Alex Heath, has been coming to see me for some time now, complaining of back pains. Today, I discovered he'd been faking the symptoms to get painkillers for Patrick Mavers. Patrick was his sergeant, they were prisoners of war in Burma. Of all the soldiers under his command, Alex was the only one that survived. And it seems Patrick had never gotten over the guilt. I went to see him this afternoon, and found him to be psychologically unwell..."

Here, she paused, lifting her gaze from the desk to Matron's face as she formulated her next words. The expression on the older woman's face was nothing like the stern one Jill saw the majority of the time. This was one of kindness, sympathy and encouragement. And Jill realized; she wasn't here in her capacity as Matron anymore, she was here as a confident, a friend almost. But much as Jill trusted Matron wouldn't gossip, she couldn't bring herself to tell her the full story, it wasn't something she would wish to reveal anymore. And so, she continued.

"Things got... well violent I suppose..." She paused again, 'violent' not really the right word, doing nothing to describe the horrors they had been sucked into, but she couldn't bring a more adequate one to mind. "Gordon arrived, looking for me. And things escalated... And, erm, the end result, as you probably know was that Patrick took his own life..." She trailed off, knowing it was obvious that she'd missed a huge chunk out of the account, but hoping she wouldn't be questioned on it.

Matron was silent for a moment, before she finally spoke. "Thank you for telling me that doctor, I know it can't have been easy. I'm not expecting you or Doctor Ormerod to see any patients this evening. After you've spoken to the police, I want you both to go straight home. You may both take a few days off if you need it."

Jill nodded, thanking her as Matron got up and moved towards the door.

"Jill... If you ever need anything, even just someone to talk to, my door's always open." This said, she departed, leaving Jill once again shocked at how much her colleagues cared for her.

She relaxed back into the soft padding of the high-backed chair, allowing her eyes to close as a sudden weariness overtook her body. All she wanted was to go home, and go to sleep in Gordon's arms. And ultimately forget any of it had ever happened.


	4. Chapter 4

He left Jill's office, glancing at his own door across the corridor, knowing his wife was in there. He hoped she was okay, hoped she wasn't nervous or scared or upset, though he knew she would be.

He'd wanted to see her before she went in for the interview, but it wasn't permitted. PC Bellamy looked regretful as he'd said this, but assured Gordon they wouldn't take too long. After all, they were certain there had been no crime committed, it was just a terrible, tragic incident. They'd received most of the facts from Gordon himself anyway. They'd grilled him, wanting every little detail, although not pushing him, both constables sympathetic to his obvious distress at what had happened.

All they really needed from Jill was a brief account of the events after Gordon's arrival, just to be sure both their stories matched. And they also need her to fill them in on the time before Gordon's arrival. Gordon too, needed to know this; Jill hadn't told him, nor had he asked. But he would, when she was ready. It worried him, something else could have happened to her that he didn't yet know. He just hoped they wouldn't take too long with her.

It was daft, he'd only been away from her for half an hour, yet he didn't think he could bear to be another second without her. In fact he'd felt that way the second he'd left her in his office. He just wanted to take her home, see the children, and spend the whole night telling them he loved them, making sure they knew, because knew he wouldn't be able to go on if he lost one of them.

He made his way to the back of reception and leant back against the wall, watching as PC Younger entered his office, and moments later exit, with Jill following closely behind him. It took all his willpower not to dash over to her and gather her up in his arms. To anyone else, she looked fine, perfectly calm, composed, confident. But he knew her, knew all the little signs. Like how she held her hands clasped tightly in front of her, her posture erect, but her head lowered slightly. He couldn't see her face, her hair acted as a curtain, but he could imagine her expression; her eyes focused, giving nothing away, no worried furrow of her brow, the only way her face betrayed her emotions was the gentle hold her tooth had on the right side of her bottom lip.

He watched as she disappeared into her office. Sighing, he pushed himself off the wall and made his way to the reception desk. "I'm just going to clear my head." he said once he'd gained Lizzie's attention.

"Right ho doc." she sang, before returning her attention to whatever she was doodling, thus leaving him free to escape into the cool evening air.

* * *

"Thank you." Jill said, smiling at PC Bellamy as she left through the door he was holding open for her. Upon entering the corridor, she exhaled slowly. It was all over, and it wasn't as bad as she feared it would be. It was difficult, painful at times, but they'd let her take her time, and swiftly moved on when they could see she was struggling.

She just laid her hand on the cool metal of Gordon's door handle when PC Bellamy called out to her.

"We need to interview Mr Heath. Do you know where he is?"

Jill turned to face the constable, resting her shoulder against the door frame. "Well, Doctor Goodwin was treating him, but I don't think it's a good idea to interview him today; he's been through an awful lot. Wait until tomorrow at least."

PC Bellamy sighed, but nodded. It would make his job more difficult, but he wasn't going to put the man through anymore torment. "You take care Doctor Weatherill. We'll be in touch."

She nodded, flashed a smile, and turned back to the door, gently depressing the handle and entering, she was sure, to see Gordon. But it was empty. She stepped further in, and glanced into the examination room just to be sure, but he wasn't there.

Frowning, she made her way to reception. "Lizzie, have you seen Doctor Ormerod?"

"Erm..." She receptionist spun round, looking slightly flustered as a few sheets of paper fluttered to the floor. "He said he was going to clear his head." She answered whilst bending down to pick up the paper.

She thanked Lizzie, returned to Gordon's office. She plucked her dusty coat from the hook where it lay over Gordon's, and picked up his aswell. She had the urge to put his coat on instead of her own, but thought better of it; it was doubtful Gordon would be able to squeeze into her own. She smiled softly at the image as she made her way out the hospital, the slight chill providing a little relief from the stuffy confines of their offices.

She had a good idea where Gordon would be, and sure enough, as she passed under the clock tower, her suspicions were confirmed. He was seated on the bench that for some reason always drew them. Perhaps it was the panoramic view of the headland to the left, the coast sweeping into south bay, backed by the lights of the arcade. To the right was a virtually bare expanse of cliff, the geology allowing for fairly frequent slips of the rock, not really giving plants a time to colonise the newly exposed surface before that too slide towards the sea.

Jill took in these surroundings as she approached Gordon from behind, until she finally settled on what was view directly in front of them when they settled onto the bench; the sea. A vast, undulating blanket, sometimes gentle rises and falls, and other times huge waves, peaking before crashing into the base of the cliff, something that could be heard, though from the position of the bench, they could not see it.

But whatever the reason for their choice, Jill always thought of it as 'their bench'. And she reached it now, laying her hand on the smooth, weathered wood, near Gordon's shoulder. "Hey." She said softly.

"Hey." He relied, gesturing for her to come round. She did so and seated herself next to him.

"I thought you might want this." She offered his coat to him.

"Thanks." He said, standing up and putting it on before settling back down beside her. He draped his arm across the back of the bench and rested his fingers lightly on her shoulder. "How was it?" He asked, turning his head slightly to look at her.

"It was okay. Not as bad as I expected. You?"

"Pretty much the same really. They just said it was routine anyway."

She nodded and they lapsed into silence. Her fingers absentmindedly traced a light pattern on the material of his trousers as she let her mind wander, though forcing herself to avoid the afternoon as best as she could.

Finally, Gordon broke the silence. "Want to go home?"

She shook her head. As much as that appealed to her, she knew she had something to do first. "I'd like to see Alex before we go."

"Is that wise?"

She sighed. "I just want to apologise to him..."

She felt Gordon shift. He placed a finger beneath her chin and gently raised her head so he was making eye contact with her. "Sweetheart, you have_ nothing _to apologise for."

But she merely shrugged and snuggled tighter against him.

Despite what he said, she knew she had an awful lot to apologise for.


	5. Chapter 5

They entered the hospital hand in hand, once again, attracting the attention of Lizzie, though it wasn't the same open-mouthed stare as before, this time it was more sympathetic, though curious all the same. However, despite Lizzie's seeming endless hunger for gossip, she was tactful and sensitive enough not to question them. To this, Jill was grateful, her earlier resolution still strong that as few people as possible know about the events of the day.

She flashed Lizzie a smile was they passed, and continued on their way to Milner Ward, pausing only to check in on Jeff's office, only to reveal his wasn't there.

Jill's grip tightened on Gordon's hand as they neared the green double doors, separating the corridor from the ward. She couldn't help the fear that was building within her, though she couldn't explain why. She knew Alex would never hurt her, and she knew his injuries were far from life-threatening. Perhaps it was the fear of seeing the state he was in emotionally, revealing further, the extent to her actions.

Jeff exited the ward as they reached the doors.

"How's Mr Heath? Can I see him?"

Jeff shook his head. "Physically, he's fine, but emotionally... We had to sedate him."

Her heart sank, and a wave of nausea, passed over her, as it had done before, but she managed to swallow it down. It was worse than she had imagined. She couldn't begin to comprehend what Alex must be going through, having lost practically his only companion for years.

She turned her head away, and tuned out Gordon and Jeff's conversation as she peered through the small circular window in the door. Her eyes scanned the beds until she found him at the end of the row of patients, furthest away from her. He was on his side, his back towards her so she couldn't see his face, but she could still remember the expression from earlier. She shuddered and squeezed her eyes shut tightly, trying to force the image of the distraught man to the back of her mind.

She didn't know how long they'd been stood there before she heard Gordon utter her name and tug on her hand gently. "Let's go home sweetheart."

She nodded numbly and allowed him to lead the way. She didn't take note of her surroundings, and was surprised when she found herself outside, Gordon leading her into the little staff carpark. She slipped her hand from his, and stopped, bringing her bag up to rummage through it.

"Jill, what are you looking for?"

"My keys..." She muttered, her rummaging becoming increasingly frantic.

"Sweetheart," he stepped up to her and gently took hold of her arms, "PC Younger took them, he's going to bring your car back for you." His tone was gentle, not mocking, but still, it didn't prevent a blush from creeping into her cheeks and making her turn her face away, embarrassed. "Come on love," he said, slipping an arm around her waist, and urging her towards his car. "Let's go home."

Jill didn't say much on the drive home, nor did she say much when they arrived, though she drew Katie and Tom into a huge hug as soon as she saw them. She was pretty much silent through dinner aswell, but indulged the children with her full attention as they relayed their antics of their eventful day at school.

After all the pots had been washed, and homework had been done, Jill insisted they all do something together, and so Katie and Tom had pulled out the Monopoly box, since they'd had such fun playing with Mr Rose the previous evening.

Jill and Gordon had both been called out to an emergency birth at the hospital, leaving Mr Rose to look after the children. They had arrived home some hours later, both tired, but happy, having saved both mother and baby. It was hard to believe that less than 24 hours previously, they'd stood at the foot of the stairs, flirting, sharing a kiss, oblivious as to what was waiting for them the next day.

Gordon sighed as he glanced at Jill. They were sat on the floor, him with his back resting against the settee, and Jill leant against him. His hand rested on her shoulder, partially hidden by her cascade of dark hair. The Monopoly board lay in front of them with Tom and Katie on the other side.

Jill leaned forward to roll the dice. He trailed his hand down her back, tracing her spine, feeling her arch at the slight ticklish feeling he knew he'd created. Having moved her piece, she moved back against him, and he wrapped his arm around her, his hand now spread on her stomach as he allowed himself to slip back into the memory once again.

He remembered the sparkling in her shining eyes as she'd looked at him, the teasing, flirtatious curve of her lips, and her gentle kiss, just before she'd followed Tom and Katie upstairs. Yet, he knew, now, if she turned to him, he'd see none of the sparkle, none of the shine, and no smile.

"Dad!"

A voice broke through his thoughts.

"It's your turn!"

"Sorry." He was picked up the dice, but caught sight of the clock, realising how late it was. "Right, off to bed now I think."

"But Daaaaaaad! I was winning!" This came from Katie who pouted at him.

"No buts. It's late. We can finish it off tomorrow."

Both children sighed, but they got to their feet nevertheless and trudged towards the stairs.

"If you're quick, I'll read you a story!" Jill called. The only response she received was the thundering of running footsteps ascending the stairs.

Gordon chuckled and stood up, stretching before holding out a hand and helping Jill to her feet. "I don't know how you do it." He said, before making his way to lock up.

It wasn't long before stories had been read, and all four occupants of the house were tucked up in bed. Jill had snuggled up close to him, clinging to him tightly, murmuring something about just wanting him to hold her. And he'd obliged, not that he'd have had it any other way. He held her firmly yet gently, hoping he was making her feel safe and secure. He had waited for her breathing to slow and deepen, before closing his eyes and giving in to the pull of sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Gordon awoke. It was still dark, but he could just make out the clock on the bedside table reading ten past two. He shifted slightly, fully expecting to feel the weight of his wife's head on his chest, but he didn't. He reached out and ran a hand over her side of the bed; it was empty, the sheets cold. Frowning, he rose, exited their bedroom and padded to the bathroom. That too was absent of his wife. He turned and came back the way he'd come down the corridor, but passed their bedroom and descended the stairs, being sure not to tread on the creaky step at the bottom. He glanced into the living room whose partially open curtains allowed the orange glow from the streetlights to diffuse inside, casting a faint light upon the objects, including his wife.

"Jill." He whispered, so as not to surprise her. However, he didn't succeed, and she jumped, spinning around to face him, shock written on her face for just a second, until her features relaxed upon seeing him. She flashed him the briefest and minutest of smiles, before turning back to gaze out the window. Her hands were placed on the windowsill, supporting her frame, as she leant close to the glass, mist forming upon it where her breath condensed.

Gordon quickly covered the floor between them until he was standing behind her. He hesitated a moment, unsure of what to do, until instinct, fueled by love took over, and he slid his arms around her waist. Relieved that she didn't pull away, he tightened his hold on her, and rested his chin on her shoulder. He tried to peer through the window, wondering if there was anything particularly interesting she was looking at, but all he could see was the reflection of the room and themselves; his head resting against his wife's pale, drawn one.

"Jill..." He murmured again, gently turning her in his arms, to which she again offered no resistance. Once she was facing him, he brought a hand up to her cheek, marveling at the softness of her skin as his stroked it lightly, though there were no tears to erase as there had been previously.

She released a slow sigh, her breath touching his neck in the lightest of caresses. "Sorry Gordon." She said, exhaling again as she did so, her posture slumping as if it had been the air that had been holding her up.

"Don't be." He said, trying to put as much sincerity as he could into those two words, knowing she was no doubt being incredibly hard on herself, like she always was. Whenever something happened at work, at home, or elsewhere, whether directly, or indirectly her fault, or sometimes not even her fault at all, she always berated herself. It sometimes took him days to make her release the guilt she was holding. But nothing this big had ever happened to her before. He couldn't begin to comprehend how she was feeling now. He had no idea how he could begin to help her, and he wouldn't be able to unless she talked to him. But he wasn't going to push her, not now anyway; it was too raw, she was too vulnerable, though if he so much as suggested as much to her, he would no doubt be sleeping on the settee for a week.

He smiled slightly as he contemplated telling her, just to see some of the fire come back into her. But he quickly decided against it, enjoying the feel of her in his arms.

He slowly backed up until the backs of his legs met the armchair, and he lowered himself down into it, pulling her with him onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around her once she'd settled herself into a comfortable position. Her legs were curled up tightly, and her hand gripped his shoulder, whilst her head rested on his other one.

"I couldn't sleep." She said quietly, brokenly, and slightly tearfully, nestling herself closer to him.

He turned his head slightly and placed a soft kiss on her forehead whilst bringing a hand up to run through her long, tussled hair. "It's okay sweetheart... It's alright..."


	7. Chapter 7

Gordon opened his eyes and immediately shut them again as the sun streaming through the gap in the curtains hit him. For a moment, he was disorientated, the usual sight of the bedroom door and the wardrobe not greeting him. His gradually opened his eyes, and realised the mantel-piece in front of him belonged to their living room.

He then became aware of a dull ache filling most of his body, the areas not affected were those afflicted with pins and needles. He yawned and tried to stretch, but was constricted, by, he realised, his wife.

He glanced down at her. She was still curled up tightly on his lap, clinging to him. Although he couldn't see her face, he guessed she was still asleep; the rise and fall of her ribcage was slow and rhythmical, her warm breaths hitting his neck softly.

A glance at his watch told him it was getting near the time their alarm clock would normally wake them. Although, he wanted nothing more than to let her stay and sleep after the little she'd had, he knew if he didn't wake her, he'd be late for work and he'd never get the circulation back in his legs.

Quietly, he said her name, whilst gently stroking his thumb where it rested against her thigh. After a few seconds, he paused, but she hadn't stirred. Gently, he brushed her hair from in front of her face and said her name louder but equally as lovingly.

This time, she did stir. A soft groan made its through her lips and she slowly unfurled her limbs. This caused her to tip slightly, her balance now lost. She was in danger of leaving him completely to meet the floor, but he tightened his arms around her and pulled her was more securely against his chest.

A few seconds later and her eyes opened, she too, temporarily blinded by the sun, causing her to squint. Her face tipped up towards him, her eyelids opening slightly so as to look at him.

"Hi." He whispered, placing a quick kiss to her forehead.

"Hi." She returned, her voice thick and croaky with lack of use. She coughed, trying to clear her throat as she shifted again, whilst he made sure she was in no danger of slipping away from him. "What time is it?" She murmured, her voice almost its natural clear sound.

"Time to get up." He said, changing his hold on her as she immediately made stand. He slid his hand from her thigh to her waist, his other hand resting on her other side, pushing her gently, and at the same time supporting her as she levered herself up from his lap into a standing position.

She steadied herself before stepping back so he had room to stand, stretching his legs as he did so in an attempt to rid them of the pins and needles. "I'd better start getting ready then." It was obvious to him that the brightness in her tone was forced, but he made no comment upon it. Instead, he uttered a single word.

"No."

She frowned, her brow furrowed in confusion. "Sorry?"

He sighed, and took her hand, knowing she wasn't going to like what he was going to say, but all the same hoping she'd react better than he feared. "I'm going to work, you're not."

"Well if I'm not going to work, neither should you!" She winced, regretting shouting; he didn't deserve it.

"You went through more than me." Was his calm response, said with his arms folded across his chest, his gaze resting unwaveringly on her face.

"But-! But you were the one that was shot at! You had you grenade thrown at you!" She stopped abruptly, her features crumpling as she turned her head away and covered her mouth with her hand, smothering the sobs that overwhelmed her. "I nearly lost you!"

Gordon quickly stepped forward and gathered her up in his arms. He lowered them both onto the settee. He cradled her head to his shoulder, stroking her long, dark, tussled hair, occasionally moving down to rub her back. "It's alright sweetheart."

She shot her head up and pulled away from him. "No! No, it's not alright! You're being so lovely to me, and I'm just being horrid. You don't deserve it. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry..." Her voice, raised and sharp at the beginning had tailed off, quieter and marred with sobs and the accompanying tears flowing continuously down her face. She hung her head, ashamed to even look at him.

Gordon sighed, and reached out to her once again, sliding her arm around her shoulders and tugging her gently against him. For a few seconds, she resisted, her posture stiff, defensive, but it didn't take long for her to relent, for her form to slump and almost collapse against Gordon. He immediately encased her in his arms, rubbing her back in an attempt to calm her as she continued to whisper desperate sounding apologies.

"Jill, look at you. You're exhausted, you're in no fit state to work Please, take today off, get some sleep. Just for today." This was said softly and tentatively, and Jill thought she could detect a hint of desperation.

She made no move for a few seconds, contemplating her decision, until eventually, she nodded. She raised her head so she could look at him, and saw the shock in his expression. This provoked a small smile from her; never before had she given in so easily, and it was obvious Gordon hadn't thought she would this time. "Only for today mind." She said, her voice warning but her expression soft as she gazed at him.

He smiled at her, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers, the kiss building in intensity, until they both had to pull away, breathing heavily.

"I might take more days off if that's my reward." She joked.

He merely grinned at her and rose, before making his way to the door of the living room.

"Gordon." She called, stopping him. "Thank you."


	8. Chapter 8

Gordon sat at his desk. It was his lunch break, but he was currently trying to write up patient notes, his lunch sat in front of him untouched. However, he wasn't getting very far. His mind kept drifting, mostly to the events of the previous day. He remembered the lunchtime he'd spent with Jill. They'd gone to a bakery, brought some sandwiches, and as they came out, Jill saw Alex Heath across the road lifting heavy boxes, no sign of any back pain. She went over and gave him one of her lectures, which Gordon found very amusing and proceeded to tease her about as they walked to the seafront. Their conversation had quickly moved onto a different topic and they spent an enjoyable lunch together. Neither thought it anything more than a case of hypochondria, neither had foreseen the way the day was to pan out.

Gordon sighed and placed down his pen, resigning himself to the fact he wasn't going to get far with the notes. He picked up a sandwich, but placed that back down too, not feeling hungry.

He knew Jill's apologies that morning were more than the fact she'd snapped at him. She was tearing herself apart about the day before, and he was at a loss as how he could help her.

Before he could think about it anymore, someone knocked on his door. He sighed and called for whoever it was to enter, though really wishing he could tell them to go away, not really in the mood for any company.

It was Matron who entered, and closed the door behind her, before moving to seat herself in front of Gordon's desk. He watched her quizzically; this was not normal behaviour for Matron. Normally she would have said what she needed to and left.

"Doctor Ormerod..." She began, her voice softer than the one he usually heard. "Gordon, I don't want to pry, but I came to see how you are."

"Erm... I'm fine..." He responded, not expecting that.

"Only Doctor Weatherill told me what happened yesterday. Well, most of it, I had a feeling there were some things she didn't want to divulge." She paused and fixed her steady gaze on Gordon, and he glanced away, a strange feeling creeping upon him that she could read him. "I know it must have been very hard on you both. How are you both?"

The direct question carried more than her previous remark. That, combined with her penetrating stare made him uncomfortable in giving his response, which was, ultimately, a lie. "Honestly, Matron, thank you for your concern, but I'm fine. And Jill... she's fine." It was the answer Jill would have wanted him to give, he was sure. She wanted no one, other than himself, knowing her emotions. To everyone else, she put on the impression of being strong, confident, and sometimes slightly cold. Not that is was completely a facade, she was strong, but Gordon had also seen the vulnerable side to her, but also the loving side. Although, he couldn't help feeling that now, she was being distant even with him.

Matron rose and headed towards the door, seemingly realising she wasn't going to get any more out of him. "Gordon... you know where I am, if you need to talk, any time."

* * *

After Gordon and the children had left that morning, Jill immediately set to work around the house. She cleaned the bathroom, vacuumed the carpets, dusted the shelves, mowed the lawn and climbed up the ladder to paste the corner of the wallpaper that had been curling down in the corner of the living room for weeks. Eventually, when all this, and more, was complete, and she couldn't find anything else to do, she picked up a book and sat down on the settee in the living room.

Her eyes traced over the words, but they didn't register. Instead, a million noises filled her head; the Gordon's shouts, her own screams, the gunshot, and the grenades. They all jumbled together, creating one terrible, terrifying mess of noise, constantly repeating, blocking out any other noise or thought. Though occasionally there was silence. The same heart stopping silence after that final grenade, the silence as the dust settled around them as they stood motionless, covering them both and the land around in a fine film of the stuff. And as it had settled, allowed them to see again, revealing to them Patrick's death. After that the noise had begun again as activity had resumed, as it did in Jill's head, only in her head, it was a repeat of the explosions, and the vocalising of human terror.

Jill shot to her feet, mindless of her book falling to floor. She crossed the room in two rapid strides to the record player. She put moved the arm and flicked on the switch, not even bothering to look at the record that was about to play, just needing some other sound than the incessant cacophony in her head.

She watched as the record began to turn and the notes of song filled the room. She returned to the settee and sat down once more. She sank back in the cushions, attempting to make herself comfortable and closed her eyes, forcing herself to concentrate on the song, and it began to work, the noises quieted slightly. However, it wasn't long before images flooded her mind, swam beneath her eyelids; the barbed wire, the meat hanging on the hooks, the gun pointing at her, Gordon's fear, Alex's grief, the shattering of the tower.

Frustration rose withing her, tightening her throat, restricting her breathing. She once again leapt to her feet, flicked off the record player to instead turn on the television and raise the volume to an almost unbearable level.

She went back to the settee, stared at the pictures on the screen, but the images didn't fade. And as well, she could almost smell the dank, dampness of the dilapidated building. She could almost feel the ropes once again biting into her wrists and the gun pressed against her jaw, almost choked and gagged again as she had done when the dust had filled her mouth.

Her throat constricted yet further, and pressure built behind her eyes as she fought to keep her tears from falling. Frustration increased. She picked up a cushion, squeezing it, trying to release some of her tension, but to no avail. She flung it across the room. It hit an ornament, knocking it to the floor with a smash. She placed her head in her trembling hands as her tears escaped her control.


	9. Chapter 9

Jill raised her head at the sound of the front door closing. Hurriedly, she wiped the tears from her cheeks, sighed and made her way out to the hall, hoping she'd erased any evidence of her moment of weakness.

"Hi love." Gordon smiled as he hung his coat up by the door. He moved towards her, his smile gradually turning into a frown. "The television's a bit loud."

"Oh er..." She mumbled, wondering how she was going to explain this away. "I er, must have knocked the control when I turned it on just now. Anyway," she said quickly, walking towards him and sliding her arms over his shoulders to link at the back of his neck. "What are you doing home?"

He immediately encircled her waist with his arms, pulling her closer to him. "I was just on my back from my house calls, so I thought I'd pop by." He finished this with a soft kiss to her lips.

"Mmm. I'm glad you did." She kissed him again. "How long have you got?"

He lifted one arm from her to check his watch. "About 45 minutes. You had lunch yet?"

"No, I was just about to."

"Good. I'll make us both some then."

"No, no. I'll do that. I thought you took some sandwiches this morning." She frowned.

"I did, but I wasn't hungry. I am now though."

Jill rolled her eyes at him and slapped him playfully on the shoulder. "You're wasting our food!"

"Well, I could go back to the hospital if you prefer." He took a tiny step back, smiling teasingly at her.

"Don't you dare." She pulled him back towards her, smiling as their bodies came into contact once more. "Now, how about cheese and tomato?"

"Perfect."

She reluctantly slid her arms from around his neck and took a step and began to turn away from him, but Gordon caught hold of her elbow gently, halting her progress and turning her back to face him.

"Jill..." He sighed, his tone becoming serious. "Are you okay?"

She eyed him for a moment, wondering what answer to give before she spoke. "Yes, yes I'm fine." She smiled. "Now let me go, those sandwiches aren't going to make themselves."

Gordon turned to go upstairs. As soon as he did, the smile dropped from Jill's face. She dashed to the kitchen, grabbed the dustpan and brush from the cupboard under the sink, and dashed through to the living room. She tossed the cushion onto the settee, and swept up the fragments of porcelain littering the carpet. Luckily it was one of her own ornaments, a cheap souvenir from a trip to some seaside resort.

Once every piece was off the dark carpet and into the dustpan, she rose and re-entered the kitchen. She had just begun spreading margarine on a slice of bread when Gordon strode in. "The bathroom looks very clean, as do the carpets." He slid his arms around her from behind, and rested his chin on her shoulder, so his next words tickled her ear. "You were meant to be resting, not working twice as hard in the house."

She rolled her eyes, even though he couldn't see them. "I'm fine Gordon, stop worrying."

He didn't respond, but she felt his hold tighten around her as she continued preparing lunch.

They had lunch in the living room, sat together on the settee, he with his arm around her shoulders. Although having only one hand available to eat his sandwich with meant he ended up with a fair few crumbs on his jacket.

"Honestly Gordon." Jill laughed, brushing the crumbs from his jacket and to the floor. "I vacuumed this morning as well."

"I noticed. I also notice you stuck the wallpaper back on." He indicated the corner opposite them, where the wall meets the ceiling where previously the corner had furled down, revealing the grey coloured backing. .

"Mmm, well it needed doing."

She took his plate from him and rose, only to be pulled back down when he caught her arm.

"Don't go." He said, almost whining.

She rolled her eyes. "I was only taking these to the kitchen."

"But I've only got half an hour. I want to make the most of it."

She rolled the eyes again, but nevertheless snuggled up beside him, sliding her arm across his stomach whilst he wrapped both his around her, holding her securely to him.

They were both silent for a while before Jill spoke up in a nervous tone. "Have you seen Alex Heath?" She didn't look up as she said this; her still, resting against his shoulder, her eyes focused on his stomach.

Gordon didn't reply for a moment, debating what to tell her. A lie would result in the least upset, at least in the short term. But she was bound to find out the truth when she returned to work the next day. And as well the fact she would be angry when she discovered the truth, it would also be kinder for her to know in the privacy of their home, than the public workplace.

A slight trembling of Jill's body against his prompted him to give his answer. "It's not good I'm afraid." He gently ran his hand up and down her arm, hoping to provide at least a little comfort. "He won't eat, and he won't talk to anyone. Jeff's trying to get Lucy in tomorrow to speak to him." He stopped and looked down at her, trying to gauge what she was thinking. Her face was still turned down, so he couldn't see her expression, but her body was tense and still.

Suddenly, she sat upright, and turned to face him, taking him by surprise. "Maybe I should go see him, try and talk to him."

"I don't think that's such a good idea."

"Why?"

"Because..." Here, he paused, wonder whether it was wise to allow the words to pass his lips, wary of the reaction it might provoke. Nevertheless, he continued, albeit tentatively. "Because, you're still too emotional."

"I'm not!" Came her sharp, indignant response, her eyes flashing a hint of anger.

He raised his eyebrow at her, but her expression hardened further, so he proceeded quickly. "Look, you can see him tomorrow when you're back at work."

When she still continued to stare at him, he reached out a hand and placed it on her knee, stroking gently with his thumb. "Come on, I'm only thinking of you here."

She scowled, but flopped back against him, grumbling something he couldn't make out. He smiled as he felt her slide her arm around him and hug him tightly, knowing she wasn't too angry after all.

* * *

"I need to be going to in fifteen minutes." This came out muffled, said into her hair, making her smile as his breath moved her hair slightly, but she then sighed as a glance at the clock confirmed that he was indeed right.

"We'll just have to make the most of it." She murmured, tightening her arm around him and snuggling closer to him, closing her eyes and letting out another sigh, but this time more contended.

"I think I can think of something." Her eyes flew open only seconds later as she felt his hand slip under her blouse and move up her back.

"I don't think fifteen minutes is long enough for what you have in mind Doctor Ormerod."

"Ah well, I'll just have to think of something else then."

She raised her head to look at him, surprised at how readily he backed down. That was until she felt his fingers moving against her side, tickling her. She squealed, squirming. "No! Gordon please! No! Stop!"

"No way," he laughed. "I'm having too much fun."

He tickled her more, and she squealed again, flicking out her legs, catching the plates on the coffee table and sending them crashing to the floor. The smash make them both pause, glancing from the plate, to each other, before bursting out laughing. She revelled in the laughter, how good it felt, momentarily forgetting about the previous day, her state that morning before Gordon had arrived home. All of it was blocked out by the hilarity. Eventually though, the laughter died down, Jill once again curling her legs up and settling against his side, Gordon encasing her in his strong arms.

They were silent for a while, before Gordon spoke, simply saying her name, but the seriousness of his tone make her sit up to look him in the eye. "How are you?"

She smiled, feigning confusion, making it seem as if she thought it was a daft question, pretending she didn't know exactly the reason why he was asking. "I'm fine Gordon." She laughed, keeping up the pretence in her words, her tone, trying to lighten the mood once more, just so she could hide behind some other daft occurrence.

Gordon sighed and removed his arms from around her. The smile dropped from her face to be replaced by fear. She thought he was going to move away from her completely, upset or angry with her. However, he took hold of her hands, holding them gently, rubbing her knuckles with his thumbs. The fear faded from her face, and her eyes filled with tears, the exact reason of this she couldn't pinpoint. Nevertheless, she blinked them away, determined not to ruin what little time she had left with him.

"Can I look at your wrists?"

"Of course."

He stood, still holding onto her hands, bringing her up with him, and leading her into the kitchen. The sunlight flooded through the window, reflecting off the steel taps. The kitchen always received the best sunlight in the early afternoon, as did the back garden beyond it, proving the family with plenty an afternoon playing or lazing in the warmth.

Gordon moved them to stand by the window, proving sufficient light with which to examine her red raw wrists, a result of the biting, chaffing rope that had been so roughly tied around them only twenty four hours previously.

"How do they feel?" He asked, his eyes still trained on them, turning her hands over to view the injury from all sides.

"Sore." She admitted, sighing as she did so. She had knocked them numerous times that morning; her fault, some might say, due to her ferocious attack on the dust and dirt in the house.

She watched him as he raised her hands, she thought to take a better look, but he bought them to his lips, placing a soft kiss on each of her wrists, so gentle, not causing the slightest bit of pain.

Her eyes glistened with tears once again, the simple gesture telling her more than any words could.


	10. Chapter 10

"Doctor, emergency up on the York road. Car's rolled down an embankment."

"Thanks Lizzie." He sighed, rising from the chair he'd just collapsed onto and handed his freshly made tea to Jeff who walked in at that moment. He silently cursed Jeff for not coming a second earlier.

He sighed again as he made his way out to the car park and his car. The York road was on top of the moors. The wind had picked up since he'd been inside the hospital, so it would most likely be even stronger up in the unsheltered expanse of moorland.

He climbed into his Zepher and began the long drive to the crash site, passed shortly after he began by Frankie and Steve in the ambulance with the familiar chimes ringing out, preceding its passage. He knew the route well, and it was thankfully free of holdups, allowing him to reflect on his lunchtime.

He'd enjoyed it, very much so, as he did with every time spent with his wife. They'd talked, teased, joked, laughed, even flirted. She seemed a lot happier, but she still wasn't as normal, especially when he'd first arrived, she'd seemed flustered. When he'd left she clung to him, whining about not wanting him to go, but grinning, making a joke out of it. Still, he couldn't help but detect a hint of desperation in her voice, and in her slightly-too-tight grip.

He'd debated about whether to question her, perhaps get her to open up. But he had to get back to work, he didn't want his only chance of getting her to bear her emotions to him to be interrupted by him having to dash off. It worried him, knowing she was going through some inner torment, and despite the fact he was there for her, to some extent, she was dealing with it alone.

He turned onto York road, seeing the ambulance, pander cars and fire engine up ahead. He turned his thoughts to the present, forcing himself to concentrate on the accident instead of on his wife, and pulled up behind the other vehicles.

He collected his doctor's bag from the passenger seat, climbed out his car and made his way to the edge of the road. The sight that met his eyes made him halt and his stomach drop.

* * *

Gordon couldn't move. He just kept staring at the accident site. The car laying at the bottom of the embankment was on its wheels but its roof had caved in, a graphic result of its roll down the slope. The windows were all smashed, glass littering the area. The frames supporting the roof had bent and buckled, the bonnet crumpled, and doors dented and the boot lid clean off. The whole car was a wreck, a seemingly impossibly twisted mess of metal. But what was even worse was that even at the distance Gordon stood, at least five or six meters away, he could see the unmistakable red liquid splattered, standing out starkly against the pale coloured paintwork; blood.

"Doctor!"

Gordon suddenly sprang into action on hearing his name. His slithered down the embankment, sliding to a stop at the bottom in front of PC Bellamy. "What happened?" His mind was now fully focused on medical matters, forcing his own emotions to be hidden until after everything was over. His first priority was to establish exactly what the situation was.

"There's only one casualty as far as I can see, a woman. She's been unconscious all the time I've been here. Some walkers saw the car and phoned from the box a mile or so down there. She's been here at least an hour. My guess is she took the corner too fast and lost control. This stretch is notorious for accidents as you know."

Gordon nodded, processing this information, and rapidly fired out another question. "What's the best way to her?"

"The driver's door is bent, jammed shut, but the fire crew are working to remove it now. I got in through the passenger door."

"Tell them to stop, don't touch the car until I've assessed her!" He was already jogging toward the wreck as he bellowed this to Phil. He heard the constable relay his order to the fire crew as he climbed inside the car, gingerly so as not to make it move, but quickly; even before beginning his primary survey, Gordon could see the situation did not look good, far from it.

* * *

"Hello, I'm Doctor Ormerod. Can you hear me?"

No response.

"Open your eyes."

No response.

Gordon firmly tapped the casualty on the shoulders. Still no response.

He shifted his position, allowing him to move closer to the woman. "I'm just going to check you over." He said as he moved his hands to the back of her neck. Once he was satisfied no bones were broken, he tipped her head back slightly and moved his head to her mouth, relieved to feel soft breaths hitting his cheek.

"Anything I can do doc?" Frankie crouched on the driver's side, looking over at Gordon as he sat in the passenger's seat.

"Yes, keep her airway open. Keep checking her breathing and her pulse."

As Frankie did so, he spoke again. "Doc, there's some bruising here, he indicated the woman's temple.

Gordon retrieved his torch and lifted the woman's eyelids, shining the beam of light in each. "Pupils reactive and equal. Good." He then proceeded to continue his examination, working methodically but speedily, on autopilot but at the same time giving his full attention to the task. "Damn."

"Doc?"

"Paradoxical movement of the chest." He indicated her right side. "It looks like she has a flail chest."

Frankie said nothing, just looked with concern upon the woman neither knew anything about.

"Okay, she has internal bleeding, possible ruptured spleen. She's in shock. She needs to be kept warm and moved _very _carefully."

Frankie nodded. "Steve!"

Immediately the other ambulance driver rushed over, and Gordon moved out the way as they expertly manoeuvred the woman onto a stretcher, and kept her warm with a blanket. Gordon then came over and attached a saline drip, holding it aloft alongside the casualty as the ambulance drivers carried her into the ambulance.

The whole rescue was carried out with ease and precision, each knowing their own job, carrying it out separately but working together. It part of what made The Royal such a good team, Gordon thought as he moved to take another set of observations, inside the ambulance speeding its way to the hospital.


	11. Chapter 11

"What have we here?" Mr Rose boomed, entering casualty, his pipe momentarily out his mouth.

Gordon looked up from the patient. "Car crash victim, flail chest, internal bleeding, possible ruptured spleen."

"Take her through and get her anesthetized." He began to walk off but turned around when there wasn't an immediate response. "Well chop chop! I've got a round of golf with Barney McGee from Ashfordly this evening."

Gordon rolled his eyes at Mr Rose's retreating back as Nurse Davenport and Alun promptly wheeled the bed towards theatre.

Matron entered as soon as they left. "Do we have a name Doctor?"

"Erm..."

"She's Mrs Mavis Sullivan." PC Bellamy was the next to enter, looking at his notebook. "Next of kin has been informed; a Mr Ted Sullivan, her husband."

"Thank you constable." Matron said as Phil tucked his book into his breast pocket. "Is he coming?"

As Matron and the constable continued their conversation, Gordon made his excuses and rushed off to theatre. He scrubbed up and slipped on his theatre clothes, as did Nurse Davenport, Alun and Mr Rose, a well-practiced routine that was done quickly but thoroughly.

"How does it look?" Gordon questioned Mr Rose who was stood beside him, drying his hands.

"I'm not sure. Get a better idea when I open her up. Now hurry up and get her anesthetized." He tossed his towel in the awaiting laundry basket and strode off through the doors, leaving Gordon turn and share a look with Stella and Alun, a look passed often between occupants of the operating theatre, both in amusement and despair of the surgeon's manner.

* * *

"She's gone."

Mr Rose ripped off his gloves and made his way to the sinks, not another word passing his lips.

With a heavy heart, Gordon disconnected the oxygen, switched off all the machines, signalling the end of a life laid before him. And what heartbreak lay in its wake, Gordon didn't yet know.

He stood up and stretched, though he hadn't really been in that position for too long. They knew it was hopeless as soon as Mr Rose had started, but they'd persevered; as long as the patient was alive, there was hope. But the miracle they'd all been hoping for hadn't happened, and Mavis had slipped away.

Gordon took one last look at her before moving to join Mr Rose whilst Stella set about 'tidying' her up. It sounded such a crude word for it, as if not relating to a person at all, but 'tidying' was in effect what it was. Something Gordon didn't envy the nurses for one bit.

A few moments later, out of this scrubs, he exited theatre, meeting Matron straight away. A simple shake of his head was all it took, no words were needed. Matron's face turned to one of sorrow, and sympathy to those left behind, mirroring Gordon's own.

"Her husband's in my office. Do you want me to...?"

"No, no, I'll do it."

What was to come was part of the job he hated. He had delivered similar news countless times before, but it never got any easier. Sometimes it caused him to question whether he wanted to continue being a doctor, but then an event would happen, or someone would say something -most times Jill- and he would again rediscover his passion. However, despite remembering this, the task facing him now wasn't any easier.

Both he and Matron arrived at her office and entered. A man shot up from his chair as soon as they entered. His eyes were red, his demeanour agitated, his hair sticking up in all places, an obvious result of nervous, fidgety hands running through it.

"Mr Sullivan," Matron addressed him, her voice calm but sombre. "This is Doctor Ormerod."

He turned to stare at Gordon, his eyes a mixture of fear, hope, dependence and despair. "How is she?" His voice shook as he spoke, his emotions threatening to overcome him.

"I'm so sorry."

Gordon knew he would never be able to forget the look on the man's face, nor forget the sickening, heart-breaking noise he emitted, half scream, half sob, before he descended into hysterical crying.

Gordon had slipped out, leaving Matron to care for Mr Sullivan. Rarely did Gordon cry, but he did for that man, so small and lost in the world.


	12. Chapter 12

"Jill, when will Dad be home?"

"I don't know Katie, he didn't say." Jill said, placing the dinner plates on the table. She smiled slightly as Katie frowned and when she looked to Tom, he wore the exact same expression as he spoke.

"But Dad said we could finish the Monopoly tonight."

"I'm sure your Dad won't mind if we carry on without him."

Both children beamed and proceeded to eat their dinner, warming Jill's heart as she watched them. It wasn't really that long since she'd become a permanent fixture in their lives, and Jill still marvelled at the fact they'd so easily accepted her. And she easily fitted into the family routine, gradually taking on parental responsibilities. She then remembered another parental task she'd become accustomed to. "Have you both done your homework?"

"Yep!" They both exclaimed, clearly relieved they wouldn't have to complete any that evening.

The rest of the meal passed with such pleasantness, the children entertaining Jill with tales of their school day; Katie's first time of winning a race, and Tom's mild reprimand from his teacher for 'doing nothing'. They both wanted to know why Jill had been off work, but were appeased when she told them she had merely felt a little ill that morning, and they both went on to sweetly ensure she was now well.

After the table had been cleared and the pots washed and put away, with their help, without breaking anything much to the relief and surprise of Jill, they all made their way into the living room. Katie and Tom insisted on taking over Gordon's piece and money, rapidly bankrupting him.

They were still playing when Gordon arrived home. Jill looked up when she saw him standing in the doorway to the living room, watching them, but making no move to join him. She knew as soon as she laid eyes on him that things weren't right, but knew not to question him in front of the children. Instead, she just held her hand to him. He made his way towards them, taking it, and settling beside her, holding it tightly in his own.

"Dad!" Katie and Tom exclaimed before throwing themselves at him.

"We had to be you, but you've got no money now! And I'm winning."

Gordon laughed, looking fondly down at Katie.

"I'll make you something to eat." Jill said, receiving a small smile from him as she rose and made her way into the kitchen. His laugh reinforced the fact that he wasn't happy; it wasn't the sincere, natural laugh she was used to, instead it was more forced, simply to ensure the children didn't suspect a thing.

She could hear their giggles as she prepared some sandwiches and carried them through to him. She handed the plate to him and sat down beside him, settling naturally against him as he looped an arm around her shoulder.

He didn't say much, just emitting occasional laughs or comments to appease Tom and Katie. He put down his plate and tugged her closer to him, to which she readily obliged, sensing that he needed comfort from her.

* * *

"Here." She handed Gordon a glass of wine, and allowed herself to be tugged down to sit beside him.

Katie and Tom were both in bed, sleep, and Jill was now curled up next to Gordon on the settee, determined to get to the bottom of what was bothering him. She waited a few minutes before speaking, enjoying the feel of Gordon fingers tracing lightly on her upper arm.

"Gordon, what's the matter, and don't say nothing, I know you." She poked him playfully in the chest, keeping her tone light, yet still serious, not wanting him to feel like she was pressurizing an answer from him.

"Just something at work." He murmured sadly.

"What happened?" She questioned softly.

"I... You've got enough to worry about."

"Gordon." She shifted so she could look him in the eye. She took hold of his hand and squeezed it. "Tell me."

He sighed and glanced down, and she thought he was going to stay silent, but slowing the words came. He told her about Mavis Sullivan and the crash site, and the operation, and Ted Sullivan, griping her hand the entire time. Eventually he tailed off, loosened his hold on her hand and dropped his head to her shoulder. Her free hand instinctively rose and she began trailing her fingers lightly through his hair, hoping to convey some comfort.

"You did all you could Gordon. It wasn't your fault." She kissed the top of his head lightly.

"I know." He sighed. "It's just her husband was so devastated."

"I know." She said sympathetically, hugging him against her. "But it'll get easier for him. It'll take time, but it will."

"It's just..."

"Just what?" She said gently.

"Oh I don't know. The whole situation. It's just so- I don't know!" He tightened his hold on her hand as he spoke with frustration, and Jill responded by rubbing a soothing hand across his back, at a loss as what to say. There were no words, she'd just have to provide him with the comfort he needed, as she'd done so many times before, just as he had done to her, even when they were just friends. She supposed that was one of the advantages of them both being doctors, they understood when others might not.

* * *

Jill was slowly pulled into consciousness, unaware what had been the cause. She slowly opened her eyes, losing the slight disorientation of waking up, and realised it was far too early for her to be awake; the room was still enveloped with the obscuring darkness. Gradually though, her pupils adjusted to the dimness, and she could just about make out a large shape leaning over her.

"Hi." She murmured her voice somewhat thick with disuse.

"Hi." He replied, lowering his head a few millimetres to gently touch his lips to hers.

"What are you doing awake?"

"I dunno. I just kind of woke up."

She rolled her eyes and tutted. "I meant why? Is something bothering you? Are you worried about Mr Sullivan?"

"A little." He sighed, easing himself back down beside her, and sliding a hand across her stomach, creating a warmth that emanated through her. "But it helped talking to you about it. Thank you."

She shrugged. "No need to thank me. It was the least I could do, after all you've done for me. So thank _you_."

They were silent a moment as Jill snuggled closer to him, finding the position that allowed her body to fit perfectly against his. As sleep began to entice her yet again, enveloping her in its blissful ignorance, she spoke again. "You know... We should really get another clock."

"Erm okay... Why?" He asked, clearly bemused at the random remark.

"So," she paused, a yawn escaping her, "I don't have to wake up to you leaning over me to see the clock; I don't have time to prepare myself for the shock."

She giggled sleepily at his rapid intake of breath, feigning outrage, giggling even more when he jabbed a finger into her side, precisely on a particularly ticklish spot he knew far too well. "Apologise." He commanded, poking her again, causing her to squirm.

"Okay, okay." She murmured, taking his arm and hugging it to her. "I'm sorry." She yawned again, finally allowing her heavy eyelids to close, whilst a slight smile accompanied her journey into sleep as Gordon hugged her against him.


	13. Chapter 13

She drew her car smoothly into the familiar parking area, engaged the handbrake, killed the ignition, and stepped out, bringing her bags with her.

She laid a hand on the smooth metal of the roof and watched as her husband pulled up his light blue Zephyr, dwarfing her own mini.

It was strange; she'd done this countless times before, knew the dimensions of the car park well enough to almost do it blindfolded, the routine familiar, friendly, done almost on autopilot. But today a little apprehension, a slight nausea, were slowly building in the pit of her stomach. Perhaps it was because of the state she'd been in the last time she'd arrived her, albeit in a pander car, the emotions she'd been uncharacteristically unable to hide from the hospital staff. Perhaps it was also in trepidation of the near future; what she'd have to confront, and worry for Gordon as he faced the source of his worry.

"Hey." The subject of her thoughts placed a hand on her arm, his other hand holding a doctor's bag identical to her own. "Are you sure you're going to be okay?"

She rolled her eyes and turned to face him, placing a hand on his cheek and locking eyes with his, hoping it would increase the sincerity of her assertion. "I'll be fine. Stop worrying." She removed her hand from his cheek to poke him playfully in the chest, flashing him a reassuring smile as she did so.

Gordon, however, sighed and took hold of her hand, rubbing her fingers gently with his own. "I can't help worrying though..." He sighed again, and Jill was slightly surprised to see a pained look cross his features.

She squeezed his hand, a little of the familiar guilt creeping upon her. She had to do something to alleviate his worry. "Gordon, honestly, I'll be fine. And it's hardly as if we're going to be apart is it, eh? We'll be in the same building most of the time." She smiled at him, placing her bag on the car roof, sliding her other hand into his, and squeezing it for extra emphasis. She was relieved when Gordon smiled exerted gentle pressure on her fingers in return.

"I suppose you're right..."

"As always." She grinned and leaned in, pecking his cheek. "Come on." She picked up her bag. "We've work to do doctor." And flashing him one last smile, she proceeded into the hospital.

* * *

"Hello Doctors!" Lizzie practically sang at them as they walked through the doors. "It's nice to have you back."

"Thank you Lizzie." Jill said, accepting the files and post handed to her.

"Doctor Ormerod." She prompted, holding out his papers.

"Sorry Lizzie." He muttered, flashing a smile before jogging after a person he'd spied retreating down the corridor, leaving a bemused Jill and a confused Lizzie.

"I'll take them." She said, taking Gordon's files from Lizzie. She proceeded down the corridor, seeing Gordon at the other end just catching up with Matron.

* * *

"Matron! How's Mr Sullivan?" He asked, coming to a halt beside her.

"Not good I'm afraid. We had to call Doctor Goodwin in. He recommended he stay here and sedated him."

Gordon nodded as he took this information in. "I'll see him on my ward rounds. Perhaps Doctor Klein could visit aswell."

"Yes. I'll ask her. I believe she's seeing Mr Heath today."

He nodded. The mention of his name brought his concern for Jill to the surface again, and he glanced past Matron towards reception, wondering if there was time to see her before morning surgery. "I'd better get going Matron."

"Yes of course doctor."

He smiled before making his way to his office, meaning to deposit his coat and bag before getting his files from Lizzie, and then hopefully on to a briefly see Jill.

He was surprised to find his office door unlocked. He was sure he had locked it the night before. But then again, he was at the hospital until late; perhaps he's forgotten to lock it in his tiredness.

The true reason however, was to become apparent as he entered. Jill was standing by his desk, turning when she he closed the door behind himself.

"I brought your files." She gestured to the pile on his desk.

"Thanks." He smiled, hanging up his coat, and placing his bag beside the files.

"I saw you talking to Matron."

"Ah, yes." He sighed, leaning against his desk and picking up her hand. "Mr Sullivan had to be sedated. I'll go see him later, and we both agreed it would be a good idea if Lucy did as well."

Jill nodded, and moved to stand in front of him, sliding her arms around his neck. He gratefully hugged her close, resting his head on her shoulder, their cheeks pressed close together.

"He'll be okay Gordon. It'll take time, but he'll be alright."

"How can you possibly know that?" He realised almost immediately the harshness with which he'd delivered it. "Sorry." He whispered, grateful she didn't pull away, instead placing a kiss on his cheek.

"I know it's hard Gordon, but you're doing everything you can. And I know you did everything for his wife as well. We're doctors, we have our limits. And you, my dear, are one fantastic doctor. So whatever guilt you're holding onto, you can let it go now."

She pulled back slightly to look at him as she finished, her tone playful, but he knew she meant every word.

Unable to find his own words to reply, Gordon merely pulled her back against him, placing a firm kiss on her head. "You have no idea how much I love you right now."


	14. Chapter 14

"Hey."

Gordon's voice made her turn and stop, allowing him to catch up. "Hey." She brushed his fingers with hers lightly as he reached her. "Where are you going?"

"Milner Ward."

"Mr Sullivan?" She said softly, concerned for him as he nodded. "I'll walk with you; I'm going there too."

"Mr Heath?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I know Lucy's coming to see him later, but I just want to see if I can do anything, and..."

"And what?"

"And," she sighed. "Apologise."

"Jill." He matched her sigh, taking hold of her arm and pulling them to a stop in the middle of the corridor. "There's no need. It wasn't your fault."

"It wouldn't have happened if I wasn't there though would it, eh?" Her tone was relatively light, but he could tell she was deadly serious; she really did hold herself responsible.

She walked briskly towards the green doors, swinging before them as a nurse entered the ward. He stopped her once again, just before they reached the entrance, his hand slipping from her arm to her hand, holding it briefly, before letting go.

"Will you be okay?"

She nodded, touched by his concerned tone. "Will you?"

He too nodded, leaning in to kiss her cheek briefly before they split off to their respective patients.

* * *

Gordon watched Jill make her way over to Alex Heath, before he stepped up to Mr Sullivan's bed. He picked up the clipboard his notes were attached to, and proceeded to read them, aware of Sister Brigid's appearance beside him.

"How is he?" He turned to her once he'd finished.

"He's been awfully restless. Wouldn't settle, very agitated. He's only just dropped off; the grief's made him exhausted I think."

He nodded. "Matron said she'd ask Doctor Klein to see him later."

"I'll keep a close eye on him doctor." She said, gazing sadly at the man who looked so unbelievably peaceful in his sleep given the devastation that had occurred.

"Thank you Sister." He said, his gaze too resting on the man for a moment before he turned from them just in time to see Jill rushing from the ward. Although he couldn't see her face, he knew her well enough to realise when something was wrong. For one thing, she only rushed anywhere when there was an emergency, or when she was upset. At any other time, she would walk at a slower pace, still rapid, but not fast enough to draw attention to herself.

As well as the pace of her departure from the ward, her posture and body language gave her away. She normally walked erect, a posture he regarded as one of the beautiful aspect of her; shoulders back, spine straight, head high, confidence personified. A 'no nonsense' sort of posture, but in no way was it unkind. There was still an relaxed element of it, and accompanied with her melodic, kind voice and expression, it made her approachable, made people want to confide in her. He supposed it was one of the reasons why he was so in love with her.

But as Jill had walked from the ward only seconds previously, her shoulders were turned inwards, her head bowed, her arms crossed in front of her, as a kind of defence, he supposed.

After noting this, he too rushed from the ward, after hurriedly excusing himself from Sister Brigid. He could see her a way in front of him, down the long corridor leading straight into reception. He quickened his pace, closing the distance between them, and all the while ignoring the inquisitive looks from several nurses as first Jill, then himself passed them at speed.

Finally, he caught up with her and reached forward to touch her arm, making her aware of his presence. She spun round, her eyes wide, betraying how much he'd startled her, despite the gentleness of his touch. Her expression quickly relaxed when she saw it was him. This wasn't what captured his attention though; it was the tears brimming in her eyes that startled him. Then he focused more on the intensity of the sadness in her eyes, drawing him towards her. He placed a protective hand on the small of her back and gently led her into the privacy of his office.

He closed the door and turned back, undecided whether he should be the first to speak as he gazed at her.

She was standing by his desk, her back not completely to him, but her face turned away and tilted downwards, her attention seemingly captivated by something on his desk.

"Jill." He murmured questioningly.

She turned to him, her lips twisting into the sort of smile one can only wear when they're trying not to cry. "He blames me." She whispered, though it was difficult to make out the words; her voice quivered in a desperate bid to gain some control over the belying signs of her emotions. Eventually though, the fight appeared too much as the first tears crept over the rims of her eyes, hovering for a moment before making a bid for freedom over the crests of her cheeks.

She lowered her head as more joined them, her hand twisting in front of her, a sign of her jostling emotions.

Without hesitation, he moved forward and drew her into his arms, uttering loving but futile, meaningless murmurs to her as he manoeuvred to sink into one of the hard, plastic, garishly orange visitors chairs, easing her down with him.

He simply held her close as she shifted into a comfortable position, her body fitting perfectly against his, something he never failed to marvel at.

Now wasn't the time for talking; that would come later, when she was calmer. Whatever he said now, she wouldn't take in, and he knew she herself wasn't willing to divulge any more just yet.

So for the moment, he provided the comfort she needed, as she had done for him the previous night.


	15. Chapter 15

"Okay?" He murmured once her sobs had faded and her breathing had lessened from its previous ragged brokenness. He placed a firm kiss to the top of her head as he said it.

She nodded against his shoulder, shifting to allow her hand access to her face to wipe away her tears. "Sorry." She mumbled, a hint of embarrassment lacing her tone.

"No need." He said quietly but sincerely, placing another kiss to her head before continuing. "What happened?"

She sighed, readying herself to relate the painful conversation in the ward when a knock on Gordon's door interrupted them. Jill practically launched herself from Gordon's lap, and stood facing the window, her back to the door, and Gordon rose, calling "come in."

"Sorry to interrupt doctors." Lizzie popped her head round the door. "But I've just typed these, and thought I'd give them to you before I forgot." She laughed, and entered the room properly, holding a wad of paper in her hand. She threw a quizzical glance at Jill who still had her back to her, having apparently not yet acknowledged her presence. She flicked through the wad, which Gordon could now see was various envelopes, extracted two and held them out to him.

"Thank you Lizzie." He said, taking them from her. He watched as she smiled, glanced once more at Jill and exited the room. His gaze then fell upon Jill who turned after the door clicked shut. Despite knowing she had been crying, Gordon was still slightly shocked at her red eyes, and tear stained face, lined with mascara.

He handed her the enveloped with her name typed neatly onto the front, before ripping open the one bearing his own. He scanned the contents, a smile creeping onto his face. "So, fancy it?" He said, looking back at Jill.

"Yeah. Why not, should be good."

Despite her nonchalant response, he could tell she was secretly looking forward to it, and his smile turned into a grin.

"But in the meantime," she continued. "You free for lunch?"

"Only if you tell me about what happened." He half regretted it as soon as he said it; he might have pushed her too much. She wasn't the open of people at the best of times, and hated people prying or trying to force her into revealing her thoughts and feelings. However, he felt sure she would have told him had Lizzie not interrupted them. And he didn't want her to clam up and bottle something else up. He held his breath in trepidation of her reply, and was very relieved when it was light-hearted.

"That, Doctor Ormerod, is blackmail." She poked him lightly in the chest.

He sighed, his tone becoming serious. "It's only because I worry about you."

"I know." She glanced down, briefly. "But there's no need, really. However," she sighed and looked him in the eye. "Yes, I will tell you. Just... don't push me, please."

* * *

They passed in silence beneath the clock tower, then turned right, their shoes crunching the gravel path as they made their way towards the bench overlooking the vast expanse of water. They ate without saying much, nothing of importance. It was a comfortable silence, and it gave Jill chance to reflect on the morning; the conversation with Alex Heath, and then how Gordon had comforted her. At this thought, she moved closer to him where they sat, touching her leg to his, and glancing at him, flashing him a smile, which he readily returned. She couldn't quite comprehend the care and concern he demonstrated towards her. And whilst part of her felt she didn't deserve it, the other part was wholly grateful.

She smiled again as he looped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her even closer to him. She tilted her head back, locking eyes with his as he tipped his own head down, and leant into to press her lips softly to his. "I do love you Gordon." She whispered. "And thank you for this morning." She wrapped an arm around his stomach, hugging him tightly, knowing it demonstrated nowhere near the extent to her gratitude, but hoping it would do for now. "I suppose you want me to tell you what happened."

"You don't have to, if you're not ready."

She glanced back up at him, once again touched, this time by his patience, how he wasn't demanding she tell him. "Thanks, but I'll tell you, it's the least I can do." She took a deep breath, and felt his squeeze her shoulder as she divulged what had upset her so.

She had taken a seat by Alex Heath's bed, softly announcing her arrival to him. His back was to her, and he made no indication he had heard her apart from the almost undetectable stiffening of the muscle shoulders. She'd carried on nevertheless, hoping that at some point she'd get through to him. She apologised, profusely, feeling the guilt rise to the surface, raw and creating a burning in her chest once again. She tried to provide comfort, tried to get him to open up. "If there's anything I can do, just ask." She had finished.

It was at this point when Alex had turned to face her. Slowly his eyes focused on her, bearing an immense depth of pain that shocked her, especially given the strong man he was. "You've done more than enough."

She bit her lip, fighting back the tears his tone and words had evoked. "I'm sorry." She whispered, and rose, not wanting to make him feel any worse through her presence. She had glanced over to Gordon, hoping he had finished, but he was deep in conversation with Sister Brigid. Head down, trying not to draw attention to herself, brushing away the occasional tear, she made her way rapidly out of the ward, serenaded by the clipping of her heels on the tiled floor. She stopped only once, at the green double doors to glance back at Alex. His back was to her, his form huddled beneath the blankets, such a strong man heartbreakingly reduced to such a state.

She finished speaking and tucked her head under Gordon's chin, hugging him tightly whilst trying to fight back the nausea of the immense guilt. He didn't say anything, which worried her for a moment, until she felt his hand rubbing her back soothingly, though much as she loved it, it did nothing to settle her guilt.


	16. Chapter 16

The rest of the day passed fairly quickly for Jill; house calls, evening surgery and ward rounds, and surprisingly no emergencies, although Jeff had been called out to one. She was just completing some paperwork when there was a knock on the door. She turned, fully expecting it to be Gordon coming to check if she was finished for the day. However, it was Lucy Klein who popped her head round the door, and entered after Jill gestured her to do so.

"Take a seat."

"Thank you." The psychiatrist smoothed her skirt, sat down and crossed her legs elegantly. "I've just been to see Mr Heath."

Jill swallowed nervously, the emotions she'd kept at bay all afternoon now surfacing once again. "How is he?"

"To be expected. It'll take some time, but I'm confident he'll be okay."

Jill nodded, feeling a little relief, only for it to be forgotten about a second later when Lucy continued.

"He wanted me to tell you something as well."

"Oh yes?"

"He told me you spoke to him this afternoon. I believe he said something like 'You've done more than enough' after your offer to help him. Am I right?" Lucy questioned, to which Jill nodded. "He realises it perhaps came across in the wrong way. He didn't mean it to sound as if he blames you. He means you've already done so much to help, and he doesn't want to put you to any trouble."

Jill merely nodded and glanced down. She knew she should be happy at this, but if anything, it made her feel even guiltier.

"Jill?" Lucy's concerned tones made her raise her head. "Are you alright? Your reaction wasn't what I would have expected."

"I'm fine. I'm pleased honestly."

"You blame yourself don't you?"

Lucy's matter of fact tone startled Jill slightly. And despite Lucy being a psychiatrist, Jill didn't realise anyone could read her that easily, except perhaps Gordon.

"Okay, perhaps I do." She sighed, glancing at her hand fiddling with a pen on her desk, trying to think of anything that would retract away from the conversation she really didn't want to be having.

"Why is that?"

Jill shook her head, hastening to stop the questioning as she quickly realised Lucy was in full psychiatrist flow. "Thank you for your concern Lucy, but I'm fine really. Anyway, I keep meaning to ask you, did you see Mr Sullivan as well?"

"I didn't. He was sleeping so I'm popping back in tomorrow. Speaking of which, I should get going." She stood up, looking intently at Jill, but saying nothing.

"Okay Lucy." Jill stood up as well. "Thank you for coming to tell me." She opened the door and exited after Lucy, in time to see Gordon also leave his office. He turned and saw her.

"Hi."

"Hi." She replied. "All done?"

He shook his head. "I'm going to see Mr Sullivan. I don't know how long I'll be."

She nodded understandingly. "I'll see you at home then." She leant in and kissed him, squeezing his arm, an unspoken understanding passing between them.

* * *

It was nearly 10 o'clock by the time Gordon finally arrived home. Jill was just coming downstairs after checking on the children and met him in the hallway. "Hi." She greeted, waiting until he'd deposited his doctor's bag, removed his shoes and hung up his coat before moving towards him and sliding his arms around him.

She hated to admit it, even to herself, but the incident was still affecting her, and sometimes she just needed a hug from her husband, perhaps just to confirm to herself that they were both okay.

However, now, she didn't receive what she needed, didn't feel his arms encasing her in return. If anything, Gordon pulled away, averting his face and muttering something she couldn't make out. He moved past her, and she let her arms fall to hang by her sides, as she watched his retreating back disappear into the kitchen. She too made her move, once his was out of sight through the door. Instead of following him though, she entered the living room, going straight to the settee and sinking into it.

She couldn't deny that his demeanour had hurt her, but at the same time, she was sure it wouldn't last for long. She thought he was probably bothered about whatever had happened when he saw Mr Sullivan, and just needed a little space. She reasoned she'd leave him for a little while, let him think through whatever was bothering him. Then she'd go to him, get him to open up, and help him. And maybe she'd get that hug.

She just hoped she wasn't being too idealistic.


	17. Chapter 17

Jill lay in bed later that night. Gordon lay beside her, deep him sleep, a prospect that seemed to elude her at that moment.

She had, frankly, been too idealistic, way too idealistic.

In fact, none of that she'd thought had actually happened. She'd left him for a while, but when she went to him, he wouldn't open up, wouldn't even say one word to her, and she most certainly didn't get that hug.

She knew Gordon so well, well, thought she did. What she had imaged normally did happen, but not then. That night, she couldn't even tell what he was feeling; he was evasive, distant, his expression blank, and he even seemed to be deliberately avoiding her.

He'd walked out of the conversation she'd attempted to start in the kitchen, mumbling something that once again she was unable to decipher. He'd gone to bed long after her, no doubt hoping she'd been asleep, which she wasn't. She lay still, hoping he'd slide his arms around her like he normally did, but he simply slipped under the covers. When she'd reached out, just a hand touching his shoulder, she'd felt him stiffen, and roll over, the same position he was now in, with his back to her.

The tiny prick of pain that had pierced her heart when he'd evaded her arms earlier now intensified tenfold, providing a somewhat crushing and nauseating sensation. Tears built beneath her eyelids as she thought of the unfamiliar atmosphere of the evening.

She wasn't just hurt though, she was also annoyed; whatever was bothering him gave him no right to simply disregard her. But a bigger part of her was concerned as to the reason.

She just hoped things would be different in the morning.

* * *

The phone woke her from her restless slumber, having only just dropped off to sleep. A glance at the clock told her it was nearly time to get up anyway, but still, she could have done with an extra few minutes.

She had just swung her legs over the edge of the bed when Gordon's voice made her pause.

"Do you want me to go?"

Her breath caught in her throat and it took her a moment to reply. The jumble of emotions caused by his demeanour and general distance were just as raw as the night before. But hearing him offer to go instead, as he usually would have done, made her think that perhaps he was back to normal, that last night was a one-off and he'd soon explain.

"No, no. I'm up. You go back to sleep." She leant over to kiss him. But it turned out she was wrong again, once again naïve. Instead of allowing his lips to meet hers, he turned his head away. It couldn't even be considered a coincidence that he turned when she leant in. His intent to avoid her was obvious through his whole demeanour.

She pulled back sharply, feeling foolish and embarrassed enough without having to prolong her unwanted closeness.

The emotions escalated. The hurt and anger increased, jostling nauseatingly for place with the concern and confusion. The crushing, yet sharp pain in her chest which was becoming horribly familiar, returned, emanating out to create a dull ache through her trembling form. Despite the shaky, unstable feeling Gordon had caused, she nevertheless managed to launch herself from the bed, and hurry to the source of the shrill shrieking.

She snatched up the black receiver. "Doctor Weatherill." She listened intently to the voice at the other end, mentally noting the information she needed before replacing the receiver on its cradle. She made her way reluctantly upstairs.

"Emergency on the Cleveland Way, just off Whitby Road. Young girl's fallen off a cliff." She spoke whilst quickly throwing on some clothes. She felt the need to fill the uncomfortable silence that was so unfamiliar in their relationship.

She glanced over at the duvet covered form when she received no response. She might have considered him asleep, but she knew him well enough to recognise when he wasn't. But again, she had to remind herself that if he were capable of acting like this, she might not know him at all. He was less like her husband and best friend with whom she'd shared so many experiences and memories, and more like a stranger, who clearly didn't want her company. And that hurt, so much more than anything had hurt her before.


	18. Chapter 18

Jill drove as fast as she dared through first the narrow twisting roads of Elsinby, then the open coastal roads. She knew she had to get there as soon as possible; time was critical accidents such as the one she was heading towards. She also needed to get thrown into a work situation capture all her thoughts. Through the drive she couldn't help but remember how Gordon had rejected her, and every time she did, the hurt surfaced once again, increasing, if possible each time as new thought entered her mind. Possibilities of the cause haunted her, joining the others and creating new confusion. And she couldn't help but envisage the future, both immediate and long-term. She was terrified that it would continue, and the possible result was something that made her feel incredibly vulnerable.

She was forced to push her thoughts to once side when a figure at the roadside caught her eye. He was waving wildly, and when she slowed down beside him, he pointed through the gate on her right. She raised her hand in thanks, and turned into a field. Once the was the other side of the hedge marking its boundary, she could clearly see the ambulance and a pander car near the cliff edge, surrounded by various members of the emergency services. She drove as fast as she could over the bumpy terrain, fearing for her mini's suspension, but sensing the urgency of the situation.

All thoughts of Gordon were thankfully finally pushed to the back of her mind as her attention tuned firmly onto the young girl and the unknown task she was about to face.

* * *

Jill drew her mini to a halt, thankful to put a stop to the bouncing over the hummocky grass. She grabbed her doctor's bag from the passenger's seat, and climbed out, being immediately greet by Frankie.

"There's a young girl on a ledge down there. She looks to have a wound on her leg." He spoke whilst they walked to the ledge, allowing her to gaze down and see for herself. It didn't look good; the girl wasn't moving and the wound was clearly visible even from the fair distance they were from it.

"How are we going to reach her?"

"We've got a rope in the ambulance. Steve will lower me down."

Jill nodded. "Okay, just be careful." She watched as Frankie dashed off, then her gaze turned to a sobbing woman being comforted by a police officer. Jill picked her way through the long grass towards her. "Hello, I'm Doctor Weatherill."

The woman turned from the policeman and desperately clutched at her. "You've got to help her please. I only turned away for a second, and then she was gone!"

"Alright." Jill said, trying to use her best calming voice, but at the same time trying to instill confidence in the woman of their abilities to save the child. "Are you her mother?"

"Yes." She sniffed, appearing to calm a little. "Her name's Anita Barton."

"Alright. We'll do everything we can to help her." She watched as Frankie returned to the edge, a rope tied securely around his waist. "Be very careful Frankie."

"Will do doc." He grinned, despite the dangerous situation he was putting himself under.

Jill watched nervously as Frankie took a step over the side, and soon he was descending rapidly. She stuck out an arm as Mrs Barton moved closer to the cliff edge, preventing her from moving any further forward. The cliff was unstable enough as it was without the extra weight of a person. The cliff face was weathered, causing chunks of rocks to break off and fall to the base, leaving unstable overhanging ledges. The base of the cliff showed obvious erosion by the sea; water forced into cracks in the rock by the waves, and forcing them wider, whilst the sediment transported in the water abraded the cliff. This too caused the cliff to retreat, providing many a rockfall, evident in the multitude of rock at the base.

"She's got a deep gash to the back of her leg. Can you give instructions doc?"

Jill peered over the edge as Frankie's shouts reached her ears. She saw him crouched on the ledge next to Anita. She could tell Frankie what to do, but it wouldn't be easy, confusion could occur, and besides, he wouldn't be able to administer painkiller. If Anita was conscious, some form of analgesia would almost certainly be required. There was only one possible option that she could think of. Without a second thought, she turned to Steve.

"You lowered him down. You can manage me right?"


	19. Chapter 19

Jill stood at the edge of the cliff, her back to the drop, as she looked at Steve, waiting for confirmation. She received a nod, and after taking a deep breath, attempting to summon all her courage, she gingerly took a step backwards. Her hands clung to the rope leading from the knot around her stomach. The loop around her was slightly too tight for comfort, but she didn't care, so long as it was secure.

She took a few more steps, taking her time, being careful to lay her foot on a stable area of the cliff face. She eased herself lower and soon found herself with the unnerving feeling of being almost horizontal in mid-air. It wasn't a massive distance to the ledge upon which Frankie crouched next to Anita, but it was too much of a distance as far as she was concerned.

However, as she progressed, although the fear was still there, and she couldn't quite prevent her entire body trembling, her confidence increased, and she sped up her descent, knowing the urgency of the situation.

She glanced down, and then back up, realising she was about halfway down. Frankie was looking up at her, and a couple of the policemen were gazing down at her, once of whom was restraining Mrs Barton who was too following her moves anxiously and had once again descended into tears.

Jill tore her gaze away from the distraught mother and turned her full concentration back to the task in hand. She placed her foot down, but was suddenly panicked when she a few rocks beneath it came loose and tumbled down the cliff face. With nothing beneath her feet, nothing to steady her, she swung violently and went crashing sideways into the cliff. She vaguely heard Frankie shout something to her as she made contact with the rock, the impact winding her. For a moment she just hung there, breathing sharply as the panic subsided and the result of the collision registered on her right side; a sudden pain burning through her arm, chest, hip and knee.

She took a moment to regulate her breathing, forcing herself to block out the pain before once more making her way downwards, albeit slower, more tentatively, and shakily.

It was a relief when both feet finally made contact with the ledge. She dusted off her hands, and picked her way across to Frankie, eagerly taking the hand he offered her to steady herself as she crouched down next to him.

"Mind the edge." He said, placing a gratefully received hand on her back, reassuring her to an extent before she turned her attention to Anita.

* * *

"Hello, Anita, I'm Doctor Weatherill. Can you hear me?" When the young girl gave no response, she quickly set to work. She was breathing and her airways were clear, and her pulse was strong, if a little rapid.

She started to come round as Jill worked, Frankie doing his best to sooth her. She gave her an injection, to help with the pain, and then set to work on the leg, wrapping a bandage around it, and tying the knot over the wound, putting pressure on it in an attempt to stop the bleeding. Once she'd finished, she turned to Frankie.

"She's lost a lot of blood, we need to get her up there as soon as possible."

He nodded, before shouting. "Get the doctor up first, then lower the stretcher down Steve."

"Can we get her up on a stretcher?" Her gaze traced over the cliff face, the difficulties obvious.

"There's no other way." He replied, helping her stand and clamber over the rocks.

"I'm ready." She called, immediately feeling the rope tauten. It rode up her body, forcing her to start climbing, her fingers digging into crevices in the rock for a handhold.

She made fairly rapid progress, forcing herself not to look down, and not to feel panicked as she drew further away from the ledge. Eventually, she reached the top. Two policemen hauled her over the edge, assisting her futile scrambling, elbows and knees scraping on the rock. They helped her stand, holding on to her until she was a safe distance away from the edge. She then made her way a little unsteadily towards Steve and allowed him to untie the complex knot, loosening the tight hold the rope had on her, until eventually it fell completely from her.

The next few minutes passed in a flurry of activity; Steve secured the rope around the stretcher and lowered it down the cliff where Frankie carefully manoeuvred Anita onto it and expertly fastened the numerous straps. The stretcher bearing Anita was then brought up slowly, the atmosphere of the area incredibly tense as everyone looked on, collectively holding their breath.

Frankie soon followed, and with both drivers and Anita in the ambulance, it sped off, Jill following behind in her mini, and Anita's mother being brought in a police car.


	20. Chapter 20

Jill pulled up in the doctor's car park just after the ambulance had pulled up in its bay. By the time she had exited her car and run to it, Frankie and Steve were lowering the stretcher onto a trolley, with Meryl holding the drip high above it. It was soon pushed through the swinging doors into the redbrick building.

She followed the gurney into casualty, meeting Gordon in there. He stared at her for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face. She nervously glanced down at herself. She had to admit, she looked a state, but this wasn't a rare occurrence. Every week at least one of them came back at least once with tattered clothing, muddied or wet or bloodied, or all three. The perils of practicing in a rural area she supposed.

She glanced once more at Gordon and then at Mr Rose as he moved to stand beside her. "Severe laceration to the lower inner thigh and I think the femoral artery's been torn. Possible ankle fracture."

"Has you given her analgesia?"

"Yes, Pethidine, fifty milligrams, IV, twenty minutes ago." She immediately responded, there wasn't time to start analysing his tone, to try to discern his attitude towards her.

"Right just point six of a milligram of atropine please staff."

She watched as he took the vial and syringe Staff Nurse Taylor handed to him, and administered the drug with ease. She willed him to make eye contact, needing to know that things were okay. But he didn't. Whether it was purposeful or not, she wasn't sure, but there was no time for her to talk to him as Anita was soon wheeled away. Gordon and Mr Rose went to scrub up as Jill went to explain the situation to Mrs Barton who was being kept calm by Frankie and a cup of tea from Lizzie. Jill then went to scrub up as Gordon anesthetized Anita.

* * *

"Could you swab the wound please nurse."

Jill watched as Mr Rose made room for Staff Nurse Taylor to do as he instructed. She stood opposite him, Meryl to her right, and Gordon, anesthetising to her left. She drew her attention briefly away from the operation, meeting her husband's gaze, their eyes locking only for a second before he flicked his away on the pretence of checking the machines. None of their usual relationship was there, no hidden message was passed in the look meant only for themselves as would normally happen. She kept her attention on him, willing him to look back at her, willing him to convey to her some signal to reinstate some familiarity between them.

"Very very gently."

She turned back at Mr Rose's voice. Meryl swabbed the deep crimson wound with uttermost care and delicacy, skilfully clearing the area.

"Right let's have a look." The swab was removed, and Mr Rose moved forward, quickly but thoroughly inspecting the area. Jill watched on, spotting the offending item at the same time Mr Rose did and it was quickly removed. She wasn't strictly needed in the operating theatre, but the felt she had to see the child the whole way through.

"Ah there we are. Thank you." He put the steel clamp in place with delicate ease. She gazed upon the instrument, its metal one of the strongest materials on Earth, and yet it held something as fragile was an artery with its wall only a fraction of a millimetre thick, and its purpose so vital to the functioning of the human body.

Her attention turned from the instrument to its wielder. If anyone could save the child, she knew Mr Rose could. Despite being a bore with his golf talk, and at times infuriating, she had to admit he was a good surgeon. His skill was demonstrated as he completed the procedure quickly but thoroughly, taking no more time than was necessary.

"Done!" Mr Rose's triumphant exclamation caught everyone's attention. "If you'd like to finish her up Staff Nurse."

Beneath her mask, Jill smiled, exhaling slowly in relief. "Well done." She whispered, glancing at him, receiving a gruff grunt in response.


	21. Chapter 21

"Foot's pinked up nicely. Looks like that arterial graft did the trick!"

Jill let out a relieved sigh as she heard this. She removed her theatre cap, and held it loosely in her hand, the elastic around the edge holding it in circular shape. It had become an unconscious habit of hers- Gordon had informed her of this- to hold her cap at the end of a stint in theatre in a way that reflects her mood; loosely as now if the operation had been a success, or in a tight ball in her fist if the procedure had been particularly arduous, complicated or a failure altogether.

She swung the green material as she stood outside theatre, Gordon at her side, both watching Mr Rose examine Anita's foot. They stood aside, allowing Staff Nurse Taylor and Alun to wheel the trolley out to a side ward.

"I'm off as well. There's a drink waiting for me at the 19th hole." He puffed his pipe as if in farewell, and strode down the corridor with his characteristic confidence, probably scaring some of the newer staff members out of his path as he went.

Jill waved her hand in front of her face in an attempt to dispel the smoke, before glancing to her right, suddenly aware that she and Gordon were the only occupants of the room. It felt strange to her that there should be such awkwardness at the prospect. Normally they would relish a few moments alone together at work, especially if one of them had had a particularly difficult day, as had been her morning. But she had to remind herself once again that everything had changed overnight.

She turned to face him properly, deciding to try and begin a normal conversation in the hope that he would respond normally, and some familiarity would be reinstated into their relationship.

"Gord-" She began but he cut her off.

"What were you thinking Jill?"

"Pardon?" The shock was evident in her voice at the ferocity he delivered his words, at the accompanying fury in his features.

"What were you thinking, going down there? Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?"

"I-" She began, ready with retaliate with as good as she got, only to be cut off again.

"Frankie was already down there. You didn't have to go as well."

"What so it's okay for him to risk his life is it?"

"That's not what I'm saying and you know it!"

"So what are you saying then eh?"

"You don't think! You just rush in, regardless of the consequences!"

"How dare you criticize me like that! I do not!" Her emotions rose, her fingers clenched around the cap, gathering it up into a fraction of its original size, as she glared at him, willing him to respond so she could stand her ground once again. But she never got that chance as his next words put an end to the argument.

"You do! You did it today, and you've done it before. Take the other day!"

He stopped abruptly, and she was too winded to give a response. The words echoed in the corridor long after they had left his mouth. She blamed herself for what happened with Patrick Mavers, but to know Gordon held her responsible as well was too much to bear.

She turned and ran, too ashamed and hurt to be near him.

* * *

Gordon felt unable to move for a few moments, he merely stood and watched Jill's retreating back. Just as he was about to do the right thing and go after her, a figure moved in front of him; Matron. He could tell from the look on her face that she'd heard at last part of the very vocal exchange between the two, and he knew he was in for a telling off. But he didn't prepare an excuse. He deserved to be reprimanded for his actions. He deserved more than just Matron's sharp tongue though, he deserved his wife's full fury. But she hadn't unleashed it upon him, and he knew why; he'd hurt her too deeply.

"Kindly refrain from airing your private disputes in the public of this hospital. It's unprofessional, I won't stand for it."

"Sorry Matron." He muttered, turning back to see the corridor empty of Jill. He could still go after her, put things right, but he used Matron's reprimand as an excuse to himself.

He began down the corridor Jill had passed through, picking up his doctor's bag along the way. But instead of stopping at her office where he knew she'd be, he carried on, out of the white double doors, and into the car park to begin his house calls. He concentrated on driving, forced himself to think of his patients so his thoughts didn't stray to Jill and the look on her face as he'd uttered the accusation.

* * *

She was aware as she ran down the corridor that she was still wearing her hospital scrubs. She should have turned, gone back to theatre and removed them, placing them in the designated washing basket. It was, afterall the rules; risk of infection from splashes of patients' blood and so on. And Jill, normally a stickler for the rules would normally have done just that. But, as she already knew, today was no normal day, and the rules were the last things on her mind as she fled into her office, finally allowing herself to break down in the familiar privacy the four walls presented. It was privacy intended for patients, but there had been times when she had sought the solitude, away from the prying eyes of the staff and patients.

Tears coursed down her cheeks as she simply stood in the middle of her empty room. Never before had she needed the seclusion as much as she did now, never had she such a desperate need to be away from everyone, and hide her emotions. Conversely she wanted company, albeit of one person. She longed for Gordon to come bursting through the door, full of apologies and explanations.

As the minutes went by since their outburst, her hope of such an event diminished, until she could hope no more, and she resigned herself to the fact that her husband wasn't going to come and attempt to make things right between them and resolve the situation that had been worsening throughout the day.

Despite wishing Gordon would apologise, Jill couldn't help feeling responsible; he had, afterall blamed her for the incident with Patrick Mavers, or that had been his implication, whether he intended it to be or not. Was it possible that his blame was the cause of his suddenly changed attitude to her aswell as the argument?

She angrily hurled her balled-up cap across the room, watching as the material collided softly with the wall, unfurled and floated down to the carpet. The action did nothing to match her fury at Gordon, herself and the whole situation that had spiralled so quickly out of their control.


	22. Chapter 22

"Doctor." Lizzie's voice stopped Jill's exit from the hospital. It was the end of the day, and she was going home, unusually, a prospect she didn't particularly relish. Had Gordon not been called out to an accident, she might have invented some excuse to prolong her stay at the hospital.

She wearily leant on the high reception desk. The morning's rescue had tired her, the physical exertion using most of her energy. And she was emotionally drained; the situation with Gordon having progressively worsened through the day. He'd made no effort to see her, to attempt to rectify things. If anything, he seemed to be avoiding her; she'd only seen him once after their argument. She'd begun her ward rounds, entering Milner where three of her patients were, and he was at the other end with one of his patients. She saw him notice her entrance, but immediately look away, busying himself with a file. She'd made her way over to her first patient, in the first bed on the left, and by the time she'd looked back at the rest of the ward, Gordon had left it. She hadn't seen him since.

He hadn't even told her he'd been called out to an accident and might be late home as he normally would have done. Instead, she'd found out by chance from Lizzie.

The woman in question captured Jill's attention once again. "So, are you coming?"

"Coming?" She questioned, wondering whether Lizzie was being her usual ambiguous self, or whether her tiredness was making her slow. "Coming where?"

"To the ball!" The receptionist exclaimed, her tone of voice indicating how obvious she thought the answer to be. "I gave the invitations to Doctor O yesterday. Are you both coming?"

Despite them both agreeing to attend, Jill hesitated in responding. Was she in any position to answer for her husband? So many things had changed since the previous afternoon in his office. The tenderness, love, comfort, all familiarity had suddenly disappeared from their relationship, for a reason unknown to Jill, leaving her in fear that they would never resume what they had once had.

"Doctor?"

Jill snapped to attention as Lizzie's voice made her realise she'd been far too slow in giving her answer. "Yes, yes, we'll both come."

"Great." Lizzie beamed, forcing Jill to return the smile, despite it being the last thing she felt like doing.

She just hoped she hadn't jeopardised their relationship yet further.


	23. Chapter 23

Jill lay awake, griping the duvet tighter under her chin as she heard the front door open and moments later click shut again. She held her breath, straining to hear anything from downstairs that would indicate what the recently entered person was doing. She heard some shuffling, material moving against material, which she pictured as Gordon removing his coat and hanging it up, then a brief jangle of keys before being silenced on the small wooden table in the hallway. Then, the sound came to her of another door opening and shutting, which she guessed was the cupboard under the stairs when they kept their doctors' bags. She sound of footsteps reached her, gradually fading until they were no longer audible; he was obviously moving away from the stairs and deeper into the house. She fleetingly thought that perhaps he was going in search of her, but replaced it with the more conceivable idea that he was going to prepare a quick dinner.

Previously, she might have waited to have dinner with him, it not being particularly late hour. But like so many things, this was just one more thing about their domestic routine that had suddenly and inexplicably changed. Tonight, she'd had eaten with Tom and Katie, and made her way to bed at an early hour. The reason for this, ultimately, was to avoid her husband, and any of the heartache that might ensue if she were to meet him when he arrived home. She felt slightly ashamed of the cowardice of her actions; she had never been one to actively avoid unpleasant situations, nor was she one to openly admit, even to herself, that she couldn't deal with something, both of which she'd done tonight.

She broke off her thoughts as the floorboards of the stairs creaked, heralding Gordon's approach. Her back was towards their bedroom door but she closed her eyes, and clutched the duvet to her again, hoping to hide the slight trembling that had started in her hands and was steadily spreading through her entire body, and instead appear deeply asleep.

He entered, closing the door softly behind him, and flicked on the lamp on his bedside table, the glow it cast around the room visible through her eyelids. She lay still, simply listening to the rustling of his clothes as he changed, then left the room. She waited a few seconds until she heard the click of the bathroom light before twisting to look behind her, seeing a pile of his clothes neatly folded on the chair in the corner of the room.

She quickly turned back again and snapped her eyes shut as the light clicked again and moments later Gordon re-entered the room and got into bed behind her. A sharp draught of cold air met her back as the duvet was raised, but disappeared as he drew it around him. If anything, she was warmed, the heat from his body travelling the short distance to meet hers. Despite this, she knew, as he turned off the lamp and plunged the room into darkness, that she wouldn't feel his body against hers, wouldn't even feel the touch of his hand.

In the darkness, she opened her eyes, only to allow numerous tears to escape. She sniffed, to which there was no sign he'd heard. She wondered what he was thinking or feeling. Did he hate every minute he had to spend lying next to her? She was tempted to speak up, in an attempt to gauge any indication from his response, but the words refused to form. She was simply too afraid of what she might discover, and what it might mean for her future with Gordon.


	24. Chapter 24

The days continued much the same; Gordon continued to act just as cold and distant, and she continued to have little idea why. The heartache continued, but the situation didn't worsen, though nor did it improve.

"Last one Lizzie." Jill forced a smile as she handed the receptionist a patient's file.

Lizzie returned her smile, though much brighter and natural than her own, opening her mouth to speak, only to be cut off as the white entrance door swung open, hitting the wall with a bang.

"Someone, help! Please!" An obviously distressed voice called, the occupant moments later came into view, struggling to hold up a man leaning heavily on him. To say he looked a little worse for wear was to put it mildly; he stumbled, swaying constantly, his face a bloodied mess, his torn clothes similarly stained with the deep red liquid.

Jill quickly rounded the reception desk and began a visual examination of the damage as she spoke. "I'm Doctor Weatherill. Can you tell me what happened?"

The only response she received was an unintelligible moan. His arm flailed, catching Jill hard on the chest, sending her tumbling backwards to the floor.

The next few moments passed in a blur for Jill, struggling to get her breath, as people gathered around her and voices passed above her. The first was Lizzie's shout for help. Then Jeff came, speaking to the injured man and his companion, leading them away from Jill. Matron and Lizzie arrived at her side at the same time, both crouching either side of her. Sister Brigid arrived soon after, though only for a moment. "I'll get Doctor Ormerod." She then ran off down the corridor, giving Jill no time to protest.

* * *

"Doctor Ormerod!"

Sister Brigid's urgent tones stopped Gordon, his hand on the door to Milner Ward.

"It's Jill," She turned and extended her arm to point down the corridor, allowing Gordon a view of his wife. "She's been hurt."

He was off, pushing past Sister Brigid before she finished her sentence. Matron stepped aside as he reached them, making room for him to crouch beside her. "Jill," He gasped. "Sweetheart, what's happened? Where are you hurt?" He stroked her cheek with one hand, the other brushing through her hair to rest on her shoulder, his actions tender but his shaking belied his desperation for her to be okay.

He watched her anxiously as she raised her tear-filled eyes to meet his, her hand darting up and grabbing his tightly. "I'm fine Gordon, just a little winded." She squeezed his hand tighter whilst her other gripped his shoulder, pulling him closer to her. Relief had filled him as he heard her words, but it soon turned to confusion and again to concern at her actions. The tears shimmering in her eyes soon fell, the drops tracing a path down her cheeks, the stains of mascara contrasting with her pale skin. His moved his hand on her cheek, wiping away the moisture as it fell, but it only served to intensify the flow until she was sobbing openly, griping onto him tighter, hiding her face against his shoulder as his arms encircled her.

Matron was standing within his peripheral vision and Lizzie was still crouched opposite him, her hand which had been placed on Jill's arm for comfort now just frozen there. He glanced up to see her bewildered expression. He had to admit, he felt the same. Rarely did Jill show this level of emotion, and certainly not in the presence of colleagues.

"Jill." He murmured, trying to limit the volume so as few people as possible heard. "Sweetheart, let's get you to your office eh." He waited but received no response, his wife merely continued to sob. All he could do was hold her closer and try and protect her from the prying eyes of the onlookers until she was calm enough to respond to anything he might say to her.


	25. Chapter 25

She sat on the examination table in her office, her head resting on Gordon's shoulder, her face pressed to his neck as she savoured the feeling of being close to him. His hand stroked her back, the feeling familiar, yet new; it seemed so long since he had shown such tenderness towards her.

She'd eventually calmed in reception, offering no resistance as Gordon helped her to her feet and guided her to her office, making her lie on the bed at the far side of the room. He stood next to her, running a hand through her hair, his eyes holding such concern as he assured himself once again that she was indeed uninjured. She sat up, coaxing him to settle next to her, allowing her to close the distance between them as the tears started once again.

She was utterly embarrassed at her show of emotion in the full view of her colleagues and patients in reception. It wasn't even the fall that was the reason. She wasn't injured, merely winded. It was Gordon. The concern, the tenderness he had shown her, it was as if the past few weeks hadn't happened and their relationship was as close as it had ever been. She'd felt such a rush of emotion as Gordon held her; upset, confusion, hope, relief. It was all so powerful, she couldn't hold it back, despite the crowd of people standing over her, and it only intensified as Gordon pulled her closer.

She raised her head from his shoulder as she felt him shift. His hold was suddenly different, his arms looser, his body tenser. No longer did he rub her back soothingly, his fingers, too, were tense. "Gordon?" She questioned quietly, fearfully as dread suddenly filled her.

"I, er..." He cleared his throat, releasing her from his arms. "I have to go..." He refused to meet her eyes as he stood up, putting yet more distance between them.

"Please Gordon, stay." She gripped his hand, her eyes desperately searching his as she chocked out the words through threatening sobs.

Still, he refused to meet her eyes, his instead fixed intently on the carpet. But for a moment, just a moment, his thumb glided over the back of her hand in a gesture he so often used as comfort, or relief, or just to form some connection between them.

"Please." She implored, placing her other hand on his chest. "Gordon..." She sobbed, giving in to the emotions once again as his slipped his hand from hers, and moved away, towards the door, creating a distance between them that wasn't just physical. "Gordon!"

The door clicked shut.

"Doctor Ormerod."

Gordon sighed and stopped, turning in Matron's direction with the politest expression he could muster.

"How's Doctor Weatherill?"

"Erm..." He struggled, he couldn't very well tell her he'd just left Doctor Weatherill sobbing in her office. "No injuries, she was just a little winded I think." He chose the safe option, stick to his professional capacity, it was the truth, at least. He took a step backwards, towards his office, hoping to signal an end to the conversation, but Matron seemed not to realise.

"The man who hit her, Mr Bernadette, he was fairly drunk and very much in pain. He just swung his arm randomly, Jill just happened to be in the way, I don't think there was any malice in it."

"Thanks Matron." He said, taking another shuffling step towards his door. He began to feel uncomfortable as she continued to stay, looking at him. "Well... I must get on. Patients..." He trailed off, gesturing randomly behind him in the vague direction of his office door.

"Of course." Matron said, still looking at him as if she had something more to say.

He flashed an awkward smile at her and quickly retreating to his office and shutting the door firmly between him and the rest of the hospital, relieved to be away from the older woman's penetrating gaze. He'd had the strange feeling she knew more than she was letting on, more than he would have liked her to know. Panic of being found out had crept upon him as he had stood before her. The guilt that had begun as soon as he'd released his distraught wife intensified as he realised the impact of his actions through the fact that Matron would be thoroughly disgusted in him, to put it mildly, if she found out. But it came nowhere near the level of disgust and hatred he felt of himself. Still, he couldn't bring himself to return to Jill, apologise to her and give her the comfort and love she so desperately wanted.


	26. Chapter 26

She sat staring at the door, the click of it closing resounding around the quiet room. Voices, muffled by the wall filtered through, but she felt as if she could be a hundred miles from anyone. Gordon's departure had shocked her, the sheer lack of emotion of it, temporarily stopping her tears. That was until the implications of his actions dawned on her, and the tears came thicker and faster than perhaps they had ever done, but she barely registered them.

It had been painful enough when things had first changed between them, and he acted progressively colder towards her, but then the incident happened in reception, and Gordon came, acting as loving as ever, as if nothing had changed. She'd stupidly built her hopes up, let herself believe everything was going to be okay. But then he walked out on her, when she obviously needed him the most. No explanation was given, no indication that she'd done something to provoke it. He was merely cold, distant towards her, seemingly uncaring to her pathetic cries for him to stay.

She trembled then, sitting alone on her examination table. The movement seemed to rouse her as she raised her head, a trembling hand moving in a vain attempt to wipe away her tears. The muffled footsteps and voices in the corridor claimed her attention, making her realise she was still at the hospital. She realised her door was unlocked. She moved quickly but shakily towards it, fumbling with her keys for a moment before inserting the correct one in the hole and clicking it locked. She couldn't risk anyone entering and seeing her in this state. Too many questions would be asked. What was she meant to say? Her husband had practically signalled an end to their relationship? She almost laughed at the thought of being that blunt to one of the nosy gossips of the hospital. The brief respite from her crushing upset quickly faded as it dawned on her that that was in fact what had happened.

* * *

Jill drew her green mini down the side of their house and pulled to a stop behind Gordon's blue Zephyr, though in the darkness the colours were almost indistinguishable. Practically the only light came from the street lights spaced at intervals along the road: the sky was overcast and all the windows of nearly every house in the street were dark, no light diffusing through the curtains; most occupants most likely asleep given the late hour, or early, depending on how you looked at it.

She rounded the side of the house, one of the ones that showed no sign of life. Katie and Tom were surely tucked up in bed, and Gordon probably would be as well. Previously, before everything about their relationship changed, if there had been an argument or upset during the day, they would normally stay up and wait for the other. Now she couldn't imagine Gordon sitting in the living room, awaiting her arrival, and welcoming her with a comforting hug. Instead, when she entered the house - she could no longer think of it as home - there was no one there, only silence.

She deposited her coat and bags in their usual places, thinking briefly that they may not belong there for much longer, before pushing the thought away. Her footfalls barely made any noise as she ascended the stairs, knowing which steps to avoid to prevent any creeks belying her presence.

She looked into Katie and Tom's rooms, seeing them both fast asleep, looking incredibly peaceful in their slumber. She stood in each of their doorways for a while, taking in their features, committing everything to memory, for fear she wouldn't have much more time with them. Eventually she tore herself away, closing the doors softly and wiping the teardrops resting delicately on her cheeks.

She entered their bedroom next. She couldn't bear to look at Gordon; the hurt and anger and confusion were too much. She quickly collected her nightdress and fled the room, not pausing to glance back as she closed the door.

She crossed the landing and entered another room, this one empty of occupants, but holding a bed. In all the time they had lived together, she'd never chosen to sleep apart from Gordon. But, as had most things in their relationship, it was about to change.

She slipped between the sheets of the spare bed, and curled up tight, fighting against the threatening tears, attempting to sleep alone.


	27. Chapter 27

Jill left her office and crossed the corridor into reception, a pile of paperwork clutched in her hands. Lizzie was pulling on her coat. "Working late again doc?" She asked, flicking her golden hair free from beneath the thick fabric to rest on the collar.

"Yeah, 'fraid so." She answered as she opened a draw of a filing cabinet. "Doing anything special tonight?" She asked, more out of the desire to have a conversation with someone other than a patient than a wish to know.

"Not really." She came to stand at Jill's elbow. "How about you? A nice night in with Doctor Ormerod when you get home?"

She murmured noncommittally, fighting down the pain burning in her chest, forcing herself to instead focus on filing her notes. Lizzie wished her goodnight, and she murmured back, barely registering her departure.

She made her way back to her office, glancing wistfully back at Gordon's door, knowing it would be empty, he having left long ago. She settled herself into her chair, picking up her pen and readying herself for another night of work. She had barely been home for the past two weeks, arriving home long after Gordon went to bed, and leaving as soon as Katie and Tom were up and eating breakfast. She had taken on more patients, attended as many emergencies as possible, carried out more surgeries, and generally filled her time with work, hoping to keep herself busy and keep her mind on work, and to find an excuse to stay as long as possible away from their house. Though sometimes she didn't need an excuse. Occasionally she would drift off, her mind going over everything, searching for some reason for her life to change so quickly. Then she'd catch herself, angrily wipe away any tears that had escaped her control and absorb herself with work once again.

She'd barely seen Gordon. They only spoke on medical grounds, and those moments were rare. Whenever the other needed a second opinion they'd both go to Jeff in an attempt to avoid the other as much as possible. Jill's reason was to save herself from further heartbreak, and Gordon's... she had no idea.


	28. Chapter 28

"Jill."

"Mmm?" She answered, pausing in her actions; one hand immersed in the soapy water of the washing up bowl, the other holding a dripping but clean glass as she waited for the voice behind her to continue.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Yes..." She replied cautiously, realising he wanted something, the glass still suspended.

"Can you and Dad play a game with us tonight, please?"

She smiled, turning to face her 8 year old stepson. "Of course I will." Her smile widened even more as he beamed at her. "You'll have to wait until your Dad comes home to ask him though." She couldn't prevent a catch in her throat in as she spoke.

"When will he be back?"

"I don't know sweetheart." She replied, the smile now forcefully fixed, no longer resting naturally on her lips.

It was a Sunday, usually meaning no work, and a day they used to look forward to eagerly through the week: a time to spend quality time together as a family. But those Sundays had become a distant memory. The past few weeks, Jill had been called out to accidents, or emergencies at the hospital. These had become events Jill was eager for, to give her an excuse not to be trapped in awkwardness all day. This Sunday, however, Gordon had answered the telephone first and so he had attended, leaving her to spend an enjoyable day with the children. She'd missed them; with her early starts and late finishes she'd barely seen them.

She cooked dinner for herself and the children, and then helped them finish their homework for the next day, all the while nervously dreading his return home, whilst the children eagerly anticipated him. They were practically bouncing around with impatience by the time the unmistakable sound of the front door clicking shut reached her ears. The children dashed out to greet him, whereas, in contrast, she was sat, practically frozen to the settee. They'd barely spent any time together, and she was unsure how she was going to act normal around him, for the children's sakes.

The heard them excitedly babble to him, eventually breathlessly ask him to play a game with them, as if his answer was the most important thing in the world. She held her breath, part of her hoping he'd say no, but the other part knew this was selfish on her part and not fair on Tom and Katie.

She swallowed back tears as he said yes and made his way with the children in tow into the room in which she was sat. She murmured 'hello' without looking up, painfully receiving a tight greeting in response.

Tom and Katie sat behind the Monopoly board, already set up on the floor in his absence. She lowered herself to the floor, realising, as she settled that with the position of the board, the furniture, and the three of them, the only comfortable place for Gordon to sit would be next to her. And indeed he did so without comment, obviously consciously ensuring he didn't touch her, didn't even brush a hand against hers.


	29. Chapter 29

She stood before the mirror, half-heartedly putting the final touches to her makeup. She turned, surveying her image from various angles, again, with no particular enthusiasm. She picked up the small glass bottle of pale coloured liquid, the scent reaching her senses as she dabbed a little on her wrists and neck. She replaced it on the dressing table and turned to face to rest of the room. It had been ages since she'd spent any length of time in their bedroom; she'd moved her daily clothes and makeup into the spare room when she began to sleep there. But this evening, she needed more than her ordinary cosmetics; it was the evening of the hospital ball.

She left the room, stepping delicately down the stairs, lifting her long satin dress slightly. The house was silent; Tom and Katie asleep in bed, the au pair reading in the living room, and Gordon... wasn't there.

His absence was, ultimately, the source of her weariness towards the whole occasion. She didn't feel the need to make herself look particularly different was her everyday smartness, there was no one she wanted to impress. The only opinion she cared about was her husband's, but she knew she would receive no comment from him. This was illustrated by their arrivals; she, from the house, and he, from the hospital. No longer did they do anything together.

She left the house, climbing straight into the awaiting taxi, which immediately pulled away, giving her no time to arrange her dress comfortably around her. They sped along with darkened streets, not surprisingly arriving at the hospital in record time. She paid the driver then climbed out. At least half a dozen other taxis were unloading people, all in smart dress outside the redbrick building. All taxis containing two people, all of them couples. She felt slightly self-conscious as she stood there, people milling around her all heading towards the same place. Nevertheless, she strode with purpose and confidence round the side of the building, through the ambulance bay and eventually into the courtyard in the middle of the hospital, now housing an impressive white marquee. Coloured lights were strung along the canvas, casting glows of various hues on their surroundings. She glanced around, trying to spot a glimpse of Gordon, not sure whether she actually wanted to see him or not. Seeing no sign of him outside, she stepped into the marquee. The same lights were strung on the inside, accompanied by flickering table candles, all casting a soft glow over the occupants.

She scanned the room, searching for the familiar build and stance of her husband. It took her two sweeps before the finally spotted him, stood the other side of the marquee. But even from that distance she could make out his hearty laugh in response to something Lizzie said.

She continued staring at him, taking in his apparel; black jacket, white shirt and black bowtie. She didn't even look away as he glanced in her direction. They locked eyes, recognition filled his features. He quickly turned his attention back to Lizzie.

Only then did she look away.


	30. Chapter 30

She sat alone at the table, the candle light in front of her flickered in the draught of someone passing, catching her eye for a moment, before returning to what was causing the indescribable pain in her chest. It was emotionally caused, she knew that, but it felt so strong, so intense, it might have been a symptom of some physical problem.

She breathed deeply, a futile attempt to dispel the discomfort. If anything, it intensified; the longer she watched, the longer it continued.

But she couldn't tear her eyes away from the subject of her upset; her husband, his familiar form across the room, the body she had once, foolishly, thought her own had fitted perfectly with, as if in some way, they were made for each other. But it wasn't her own body that was currently settled against her husband's, held tightly by the strong arms that had so often enveloped her. It was someone else, a nurse from the hospital.

She wasn't possessive, wasn't paranoid, she wouldn't have minded if it were just a few dances. But all night long, he'd held nurses, patients, DHA dignitaries, practically everyone in the room, but not once had he come to her. Not once had he picked up her hand, led her onto the tiled dance floor, slid his arm around her waist, moved with her to the music.

And that, ultimately, was what was crushing her chest, sending bile to her throat, burning her eyes with unshed tears; Gordon, her husband, the man she loved, imagined spending the rest of her life with, no longer felt the same. And perhaps the worst thing of all, she didn't know what she could do about it.

* * *

"Doctor Ormerod, a word please."

Gordon turned to see Matron standing behind him. "I'm a little busy right now Matron." He gestured to his dance partner.

"No, now, Gordon."

He blinked, momentarily stunned at the force with which she commanded him. He apologised to the nurse he was dancing with, and followed Matron's retreating back out the marquee. He stopped as she turned to face him, the lights from the hospital allowing him to see the grim expression on her face. "Where's Jill?"

He frowned, wondering why his wife's location was of such importance to Matron. "Still in there, I presume," he answered indicating the marquee.

"No, she's not."

"What?" He was even more confused.

"I just saw her running out. What's going on Gordon?"

"I..." he trailed off, confusion mixing with concern both of which he tried to push down as he hardened his face, trying to feel only indignation. "I don't see how any of this is your concern Matron."

She ignored his curt tone and continued, "Contrary to what you may think, I care about you both." She paused, ensuring she had Gordon's full attention. "I can see things aren't right between you. They haven't been for some time now. You're obviously troubled by something Gordon. And as for Jill, it was evident to anyone watching that she's deeply hurt by what's going on." She stopped and held Gordon's gaze. He shifted uncomfortably, but was unable bring himself to break eye contact.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, torn between returning to the marquee and ignoring everything, again, or finally facing up to the problem and telling the woman who held such concern on her face. He sighed again, and began a slow walk away from where they were stood, noting Matron was following. He was still not altogether sure in his actions, but Matron's words kept running round his head.

Jill was hurt... _He'd_ hurt Jill... Now she'd ran away...


	31. Chapter 31

He eased himself onto a wooden bench, moments later joined by Matron. They'd crossed in silence under the clock tower, turning left to walk, unspeaking along the gravel path with the putting green to their right. The bench on which they were sat was under the concrete pergola, set back from the path and in almost total darkness.

He sighed, sensing Matron waiting for him to explain, but having the tact not to push. "I suppose," He paused, clearing his throat. "I suppose it started with the incident with the incident with Patrick Mavers and Alex Heath. I came so close to losing her Matron, so many times that day." He glanced at the woman sitting next to him. Her face was shrouded in darkness, he couldn't make out her expression, but the nod of the head showed she was listening. He continued. "Coming so close to losing her... It made me realise how much I loved... love her, and how I wouldn't be able to cope if she did actually..." He trailed off, unable to say the word.

"Gordon-" Matron uttered, but he cut her off. He'd started and he needed to finish, perhaps afterwards there could be a way out of the mess he'd created.

"Everything would have been fine, I think. But then there was Ted Sullivan."

"The man who lost his wife."

He nodded, pausing, collecting his thoughts. He had to make sure he explained himself properly. The reasons behind his actions had seemed so logically when he'd first formulated them, and begun to act on them, but now, going over them, having to explain it someone else, he began to doubt himself. "He was devastated. I began to think, would I be like him? I've already lost one wife Matron it was hard enough then. And I loved Caroline, I really did. But with Jill, it's something more, I can't explain it..." He paused again, breathing in deeply the crisp sea air, by now fairly chilly. He was glad Matron didn't speak, instead seeming to sense, with her characteristic and somewhat uncanny way of being able to read people, that he needed the silence to think.

There was no one about, the ball still in full swing, and the hour too late for anyone else to be out and about. A soft breeze caressed his face, providing much needed coolness against his heated skin, warm, despite the decreasing air temperature. He took a couple more deep breaths, composing himself before continuing.

"I came to the conclusion, that if anything happened to Jill, I'd most likely be worse than Mr Sullivan. And I began to think that the only way to prevent that happening was to distance myself from her. That maybe somehow, I'd be able to detach myself from her, somehow it wouldn't be as... hard... if something did happen. Sounds stupid doesn't it." He let out a harsh laugh, continuing before Matron had a chance to speak. "I stopped showing affection towards her, started ignoring her. I even left her when she was crying, begging me to stay. Oh Matron what have I done?!" He finished, unable to hold back the tears of bitterness and resentment towards himself, and wretchedness as what Jill must surely be feeling.

"Talk to her Gordon." Matron said quietly after a few moments, her tone surprising Gordon with its softness and understanding, holding none of the anger and disgust he was sure it would be laced with.

"How can I?!" He exclaimed, raising his voice louder than he would have liked in the silence. "How can I? She hates me. And... what if something does happen to her?"

Matron sighed, turning to face him, though neither could see the other in any detail. "Gordon... How would you feel if she died tomorrow?"

He inhaled a sharp, involuntary breath, shocked at the question and the idea itself.

"Gordon." She prompted when he remained silent.

"I... I don't know."

"Yes you do." She said with certainty. "You'd be deeply upset because you'd lost the woman you love. And more so because you'd know she'd died so unhappy, thinking you hated her because you didn't made things right when you still had the chance. Am I right?"

"Yes." He replied meekly, the words hitting home with force, at the same time creating more desperation within him. "But how can I make it right?! She hates me. She'll never be able to forgive what I've done to her. I don't deserve her forgiveness."

Matron sighed, but spoke patiently and firmly. "Jill loves you. You've her hurt her, very much, that's true. But talk to her Gordon. I'm not saying it'll be easy, or that everything will happen overnight, but you have to try, if not for your sake, but hers."

Gordon didn't reply, just took in her words, a glimmer of hope created within him. Could Matron be right?


	32. Chapter 32

He'd sat in silence for some time, Matron, too, silent at his side, before he spoke, finally at a decision. "I need to speak to her. You said she ran out the marquee?"

"Yes. She was very distraught Gordon."

He pictured Jill's face, remembering all the times he'd seen her upset, remembered how beautiful she always looked even through tears. The last time she'd allowed him to see her tears haunted her, the desperation in her face as she begged him to stay, as he walked away. "I need to find her, Matron." He spoke, a note of desperation in his tone. "I can't let her deal with everything alone again."

"Okay." Matron's steady, rational voice served to calm him somewhat. "Where would she have gone?"

"I don't know... Home maybe." He glanced around him, as if trying to find an answer. As he glanced to his left, a sign caught his eye. "The Italian Gardens. She's always liked it there."

"Right, I'll phone your house, and you check the gardens. Meet me in reception."

He nodded, watching her stride off before he went in the opposite direction. The light improved as he stepped out from under the cover of the pergola, but as he descended into the Italian Gardens, passing under a canopy of trees, it darkened again, the leaves blocking out the little light from the moon. He walked cautiously, wary of each footfall on the unseen surface. The moonlight illuminated the path again when he passed out from under the trees. He scanned the garden thoroughly, pausing when he caught a shape or shadow, his heart leaping in the hope it was his wife, each time a little more disappointment filling him as he realised it was a shrub or a bench, or the shadow cast by a rose bush. Eventually he turned, heavy hearted and made his way back up the path. Worry began to build within him. If Matron had received no luck on the phone... Where was Jill?


	33. Chapter 33

"Is she there?" Gordon burst through the doors of reception, stopping in front of Matron as she replaced the telephone receiver.

"No, your au pair said she hasn't been home."

"Okay, okay..." He breathed, thinking quickly. "I'll have a drive around, see if I can find her." He strode back out the hospital before Matron could reply. He was almost at his car by the time she caught up with him.

"No. You've been drinking. Ken arrived not long ago, I'll ask him to drive us in his van. Wait here."

He watched as she walked through the ambulance bay, into the hospital gardens. With nothing for him to immediately do, he shifted agitatedly from foot to foot, a thousand scenarios running through his mind. He couldn't even contemplate what he would say when he saw her, his immediate concern was her whereabouts. If she was as upset as Matron said she was... He couldn't consider it. A rush of anger suddenly took over him. He kicked his car tyre in frustration. How could he have been so stupid?!

"Doctor."

He turned at Matron's voice, embarrassed at being caught displaying such anger.

"Ken's just starting the van up." Sure enough, as she spoke, there came the sound of an engine springing to life, and moments later the grey van pulled up next to them.

Matron climbed up next to Ken, and Gordon next to her, sliding the door shut after him. "Thank you Ken." He said sincerely, touched by his both his colleagues' willingness to help them.

"Anything I can do to help doc. Now, where do you think she is?"

"I don't know. Anywhere I suppose."

"Well even if she's not home yet, it doesn't mean she's not heading there." Matron supplied.

"That's true." Gordon replied. "Can you drive towards our house please Ken."

"Right ho doc." He drew the van out of the car park and onto the road.

All occupants of the vehicle strained to catch a glimpse of Jill as they passed through the streets of Elsinby. There were numerous times when Ken slowed, one of them thinking they'd seen the young doctor in the dim light, only for it to be someone else.

After about 10 minutes, they reached the beach. Ken slowed. The tide was out, there was such a vast expanse of beach to search, along with the footpath opposite it. Gordon studied the beach while Matron the path. Luckily it was fairly deserted, but the distance from the streetlights hindered the identification of any figures. His eyes fell on the third person they passed, walking close to the sea.

"Ken, stop a minute."

As the van drew to a halt, he strained his eyes further. It was impossible to make out any features, given the distance and darkness, but he could make out the form. The build, the stance, the way the figure held themselves, it was unmistakable.

"I think that's her." He breathed, scarcely believing it, yet already jumping from the vehicle, waiting for no reply from his colleagues. He dashed across the road, down the concrete steps and onto the beach. His feet pounded the sand, which was luckily wet from recent rain and the retreating sea, aiding his progress. As he closed the distance, he became more and more confident, and finally certain the lone figure was his wife. As he neared, he slowed to a walk, both to catch his breath, and so as not to startle her. She still hadn't seen him.

She stood, her back to him, facing the vast expanse of water in front of them. He stopped a few feet away, unsure what his reception would be when she became aware of his presence. He said nothing for a few seconds, content just to watch her. Even from this distance, he could see her trembling, from coldness he presumed. He heard a sniff, and saw her hand rise up to her face. She was crying, he realised. And knowing he had caused this, his spoke, determined to put right everything he'd done wrong. "Jill."

She turned, startled, though her expression turning to shock as she saw who it was. "Gordon."


	34. Chapter 34

She couldn't believe it, Gordon, her husband, the man who had ignored her and caused her so much pain for so long, was standing in front of her. But... Had he been searching for her, or found her by chance? She quickly wiped her tears away and crossed her arms in front of her defensively. "What do you want Gordon?" She asked bitterly, determined not to leave herself open and vulnerable to him.

He winced at her tone, but it was nothing more than he deserved. He had feared she would refuse point blank to acknowledge him, so it was better than he'd expected. "I've come to apologise."

"Oh?" Still, she gave him nothing.

"And to explain."

She gave no response, merely staring at him, waiting for him to begin. He swallowed, realising the momentousness of the moment. He began explaining, telling her his reasons, just as he'd told Matron, though choosing his words carefully, knowing how pivotal his speech was, everything could change, for the better, or the worse. "I'm so so sorry Jill." He finished, becoming silent. He, their relationship, were in her hands now. He held his breath as he waited for her response, hoping he'd explained himself, hoping she'd understand.

"What do you want from me Gordon?!" She crossed her arms tighter in front of her, as if to protect herself from further hurt.

"I..." He trailed off, unsure of what to say. He hadn't expected such a question.

"Do you want me to forgive you?" Her voice wavered, her composure, so delicately held together, crumbling. "Because I can forgive you, I think can understand."

"Thank you," he whispered, longing to reach out and take his distraught wife into his arms, but he knew he couldn't, she was still too defensive.

"Is that it?!" she laughed, a chocked, painful laugh, tears beginning to escape her. "You come here, after all the pain you've caused me, expecting me to forgive you, and that's it! What was it? Just to put your mind at rest? Clear your conscience?! You really don't care about me at all do you?!" She took a few steps backwards, breathing deeply, trying hard to control the sobs building painfully in her throat. This was it, the moment she'd feared since everything went wrong; the end of their relationship. He spoke then, so quietly she almost didn't hear the single word he uttered.

"No."

"What?" she spat harshly, determined not to give him any more emotion to destroy.

"No, that's not it." He spoke louder, firmly, hoping she'd believe him. "I didn't come here to ask for your forgiveness. I came to explain, to put things right. I want everything back to normal."

"You, you want our relationship... You want me?" Her tone lost all of its harshness, instead carrying a painful degree of vulnerability, difficult for him to listen to.

"Yes," he implored. "I love you Jill."

She shook her head, surprising him somewhat, taking a few more steps backwards, putting more distance between them. "I, I can't. What if you suddenly decide you can't cope again? You hurt me so much Gordon. I can't go through it all again."

"Jill..." he breathed her name sorrowfully. "Listen to me." He walked towards her and tentatively placed his hands on her folded arms, feeling her tense, but relieved she didn't pull away. He gazed into her eyes, swimming with tears and so full of hurt. The realisation of what he'd done to her chocked his next words and almost prevented them from being uttered. "Matron said something to me earlier. She made me realise, it's the present that's important, today. The past matters, yes, but it's not important, we can't dwell on what's happened, and we can't spend our time worrying about the future. If we live like that, it'll only lead to disappointment when things change and we realise we've let so many precious moments and opportunities slip by."

She bowed her head, absorbing his words. "Promise me. Promise me you'll never do anything like this again."

"I promise Jill. I've been an idiot, I can see it now. And I'm so sorry. But I promise I'll never hurt you again. You have to believe me. I love you too much."

Tears slid slowly down her cheeks, her lip quivering as she failed to hold onto them. Nervously, he slowly raised his hand to her cheek, giving her chance to pull away if she wanted to, but she remained still as he gently wiped away her tears. She let out a sob, falling forward into his arms, pressing her face to his shoulder, scarcely believing her Gordon was back.

He wrapped his arms tightly around her sobbing form, cursing himself for being so stupid, but so thankful he'd realised before it was too late. He promised himself, as he tightened his arms around her, that he'd never hurt this precious woman again.

**OOOOO**

Ken surveyed the reunited couple from his vantage point on the road. "Are they going to be okay Matron?"

"Yes," she replied with certainty, "They already are."

_Fin_

**OOOOO**

_A/N: So this is the last chapter of the story! Massive thanks to all of you who have read and commented on this - it means such a lot. Apologies for taking so long to update. Hopefully I'll speed up with my other fics._


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